Failed Operation
by maleV
Summary: Over his head in a mission, Agent Nivans finds himself suddenly in a situation he has never trained for. Nivanfield!
1. Chapter 1

**Anyone that reads my work knows I have an affinity for beating on Piers Nivans. Well this is nothing new, enjoy the mayhem. One of those all time low points for him coming in the second chapter, so please turn back now if you are one of those people saddened by my horrible proclivities. **

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Piers Nivans was 'the man who never misses a shot,' the man who was suppose to be prepared for everything. Chris Redfield's partner. How had this happened to him, how had he managed to fall so far? Literally fall so damn far. His head was spinning and the com-set that clung to his ear was knocked loose. His fingers drifted over the dips in his flak jacket, wincing at the pain that lanced through him with jarring pain just from the briefest touches before retracting it away. At least four ribs were cracked from that fall. Swallowing down the growing lump in his throat, Piers shook away the feeling of defeat, and replaced it with his usual surety that he patronized Chris with. Peeling away the strap holding the B.S.A.A.'s standard issue 9-0-9 in it's holster. Holding the gun tight to his body with both hands, bent at the elbow so he could almost kiss the muzzle, tipping it out against his shoulder. He needed to get back up top, get a bird's eye view, get back his rifle.

Swallowing the dryness in his throat, pain stretching across his collar bone causing his jaw to clench. He slipped silently through the alleyway, eyes darting from one corner to the next, nothing in his eagle eyes telling him to worry about and no sounds to be heard apart from the explosive noises from streets where his men were. They were waiting for a sign that the coast was clear, he needed to clear the path, that's what the sniper was there for. Chris depended on him for this mission, it was planned to the very second. He couldn't afford to be down. Through the side door, Piers methodically worked his way up, checking his sights around every corner before committing fully, the blueprints to the building still trapped in his skull from the hours spent examining this place. Exhaling, he let the pain slip away before holstering his sidearm. Third floor was the trouble, there was a hole in the hall that led to the next flight of stairs that stretched longer than two men laying down. He'd need both his hands and luck for this the first time, this was going to be more difficult.

Wincing, he stepped back to the wall, putting his weight backward into his heels and hands pushing off against the wall before darting across the floor boards to jump the gap in the floor, throwing himself over the expanse in the floor that yawned open like a sore. "Shit.." Piers stifled the gasp of pain as he rolled head over heels onto the floor, splayed out for a brief moment from the gripping arch of pain biting into his side. It had to be his collar bone too, probably from the fall. His adrenaline was blocking most everything for the passed few hours, but he needed to get upstairs, he couldn't lie here. Not with Chris waiting and having no com-set. And there was still at least a handful of j'avo up there from last time, the reason he'd taken the gosh-forsaken fall. He'd had to jump, thanks to that bastard with a rocket launcher, but he hadn't had any intentions of falling like that. Hoisting his body off the ground, he braced himself on one knee, hands still stuck to the floor boards to push himself up.

Three minutes, three minutes and his job would be completely botched. Huffing out, he gripped the 9-0-9 pushing himself up and off the floor toward the roof. One more floor and he needed to clear the street before his men walked themselves clear into a street full of gun wielding, rocket launcher toting j'avo. Shoving the door open he shook his head, taking aim carefully and quickly to meet rocket launcher boy's head. One shot, two, three, fourth head, fifth. Roof clear. Wincing, his eyes scanned for the rifle he'd dropped, lip curling into a smirk when they rest on his signature weapon. Surprising they'd left it where he'd dropped it. Kneeling, setting himself up at the broken debris and mortar of the lip of the rooftop facing east, he set to completing the mission at hand. Two minutes, ten seconds. Eyes flutter shut just briefly, laying prone on the rooftop, his lips parted ever so slightly to release a calm slow exhale, before hazel flickered open, narrowing and taking aim. He knew Chris would hear the shot, his rifle made an unmistakable sound that resonated off the buildings around them. The trigger felt tight in his hand, perfect as he watched brain matter slather the street from the first shot, as the second already rang out before the body hit the ground, taking another with it.

The shots would be heard not just by Chris, but any other manner of j'avo and mercenaries, so he had to be fast, he promised he'd meet them at rendezvous point 'B,' in twenty minutes after he'd cleared the street. Eight more subsequent bodies hit the ground concurrently before the deafening roar of his rifle shuttered out, taking out the last of their gunners on the street, pulling the pin from a flash grenade and tossing it out on the street for anything there that was hidden in the shadows. Three seconds, two, one. He spotted Chris and the rest of his team emerge from the building down the street. He grabbed his pistol, a shot ringing out singularly as a method of getting his attention. Once he caught brown eyes in a gaze he signaled once to his ear before slashing across his throat with his hand, designating his lost com-piece. A set of quick gestures and he stood, watching them go before starting his own traverse back to the rendezvous point. He couldn't push too much longer without making a go at patching himself up, but he'd already let Chris know he was fine and clear. He at least had enough in him to get that far safely. Move out soldier. Catching his breath, his body hesitated to make the jump across, but in a few minutes he was going to have this building flooded from his rifle resounding of the buildings, so it was time to move on. That had been the plan, strategically pull sound to one place while they retreated and left the building empty. Once they were clear HQ would take out the building.

Clasping his rifle into place across his shoulder, Piers stepped back, biting down on his lip before heading out across the rooftops. By the third roof he was fighting the urge to vomit, the pain lancing up his half broken ribs screaming at him to stop despite reason telling him there was no time. Reason had no place in a body's defense system, people had to learn to fight that, but by the sixth roof top he had already switched to plan B. There was an iron stairwell inside the maintenance hanger on the seventh rooftop that would lead down to the street level. It was more risky to do considering men would be swarming to the previous building by way of the streets; multiplied by the fact that he was doing this without cover. He'd gotten Chris to agree to this only by assuring him he had a clean escape prepared. Tucking his body as he rolled, Piers gasped for air using the wall of the maintenance hut to serve as a stop his roll, gasping for air. Get up and go.

Pulling his weight up the wall by shoving his weight with his outer foot he slid up the side of the wall, clinging to his side with the arm that was starting to feel nothing at all but numb. Damn adrenaline was wearing off. Turning on his heel, he popped the lock off with his 9-0-9 and spun to kick open the door from its hinges, his gun already poised. Fingers clenched the grip guard as he slipped inside, four flights down and he'd be clear to go street level. Wincing, he ran the back of his sleeve against his sweat soaked brow, the clank of his foot falls echoing down the stairwell and back to his own ears. Whatever happened, it happened fast enough that he hadn't had time to react.

The shot was all he heard, a multitude of them that rang out inaccurately, one tore clean through his tissue and muscle before dropping backward onto the steps, blacking out. His body arched when his senses came back to him in the form of his head hitting the stairs, one after another, his body being dragged by his left foot, with arms dragging over his head. Wincing he pulled his head off the stairs, his eyes still blurry from the pain his ribs were causing with every drop. The moment he moved though there were shouts in three different directions in God only knew what language, the butt of his own rifle coming down against his forehead, bouncing off iron and into darkness again. He didn't know how much time had passed the second time he woke up, but he was painfully aware this time where the bullet had hit. His arm was refusing to even move on its own accord and while his senses started to slowly come back to him the distant sound of an overhead light hummed in his ears, or it was the ringing from the bullet.


	2. Chapter 2

**If you have a weak stomach turn back now**

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Good lord, the bullet must have torn straight through his left shoulder, even with his eyes closed he could feel the aching pain and inability to close his hand. Intense agony bit into him but Piers fought against the instinct to groan and instead peeled his eyes open, hoping that the lack of sound wouldn't alert his captors against his consciousness. Where was he? Hazel drifted open and he could feel from the way the gun shot was stiffening it had already been a few hours. The ceiling was tin, so some kind of shack, not a building per-say, and they'd dragged him downstairs so it wasn't in the same building, couldn't be. He knew that map and set of blueprints better than the person who built them probably, so where was he? Three hours since he'd said he would meet Chris, and he was... at the old butcher shop three blocks away from where he'd dropped. He could feel it too, they'd dragged him the entire way, no doubting that, should have left a decent blood trail if his team had gone back looking for him, but his back was refusing to react to his wants and his head was killing him. His other arm still worked thank goodness. Silently groping for the grip of his 9-0-9 he scoffed, finding it missing. Of course it was, no rifle, no side arm, no anything, they'd striped him of every weapon. There was no other sounds within this room though, none he could decipher, just that overbearing clod of footsteps moving back and forth outside the door. Why the hell hadn't they killed him? Why had they just locked him up in here?

Tipping his head silently from one side to the other, gathering what little information sight would give him, he grimaced, finding no one else inside the shack and peeling himself off the ground, clutching his shoulder with his good hand to help pry himself and gather himself over his feet. Six city blocks away from their rendezvous point, he could make that. If he had a shoulder capable of functioning properly and if he had the machine pistol he'd left back at HQ. Now he had nothing apart from hand to hand training, which was better than most, but not with half his body out of commission. Swallowing back his pain, his limbs stiff, Piers stepped to the door to examine it carefully, pressing his ear to it. Footsteps..., one person, two, maybe a third in the eastern corner. Lord his shoulder hurt, and blood loss was tiring him quickly, but with luck he could muster some speed. Breath Nivans, suck in some air, and go. The noise of the footfalls outside the door passed directly without, using weight to jam it open, into the back of whoever passed, pain lancing up his side as shouting immediately filled his senses, gripping the first J'avo by the back of its neck and slamming its head into the wall, crushing its skull into particles that ground against the wall, grabbing the machete from its limp hands. Twisting on his heel threw himself into the next, which had already lept, colliding with it and driving the machete into its bowels, before he felt the other weigh on his back, throwing him to the ground. Get up Piers! Adrenaline wasn't aiding him at all now, ribs, shoulder, collar bone, they were all seering with pain as weight dropped over him.

Fuck. "Get off me! I'll kill you!" Piers voice was hoarse, steely fingers clutching at his throat like a beast, but no less distracting than the pain surging through his upper body as the j'avo raked its clawed, mutated hand over the gunshot wound in his shoulder, cackling maniacally while its thumb punctured the fresh wound. White hot pain burned beneath his eyes, begging him to black out, anything but to remain conscious and feel that agonizing pain. Just fall asleep Piers. Clawing fingers tore away the ragged shirt beneath his flak jacket, forcing its claws past defenses and into the bullets track, pulling a scream from Piers as his face was pushed against the dead man beneath his weight. Ache poured into him and despite shoving back against whatever weight was on him, there was no way with his ribs and collar the mangled like they were to get free. Struggling to keep his composure he shoved back with futility, hands seeking the machete that was jammed up against his side, inside the other j'avo. Chris would hear it wouldn't he? The struggle? Chris would be the savior from these savages, it was hard to believe they were once normal people, harmless citizens, yet now they were infected. There was little to no humanity left in them, just instinctual rage and impulse, creatures who were like vultures as they opportunistically preyed upon him in his weakened condition, and the fuckers laughed. Ragged veined hands were shoving at him, driving their jagged, filthy nails deeper into his wound and it was all he could feel, all he could feel until his attention drew to the other hand found at his waist, breaking the utility belt in one pull and sending shattered pieces around them. It was struggling at his waist, pulling and yanking him until he was jarred completely off the dead man and smashed back down onto the concrete floor, yelping from the broken bones inside him grinding into his organs, threatening to puncture his lung, until his head lulled down enveloped in darkness.

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Fingers were tearing, prying, pulling away the fabric of life that was left to him, as Piers eyes winced tight against the pain until he could no longer feel it, numbing his body to everything but the hands at his waist. Bare waist? No, no, no, no, there's no way,..., fight him back, please. Body, MOVE! "NOooooo! Not like this!" He couldn't see, but a creature known as Ruka-Khvatanje crouched behind him sinisterly. Unlike the other j'avos, this thing had undergone further mutation, what had once been the left arm of a human was replaced by an impossibly long, wide appendage, covered in an organic exoskeleton, the tip of the arm having three dextrous pinchers large enough to latch around a human head. It's heavy feet smacked against the floor as it crouched down to mount itself above the exposed, smooth ass of Piers, it's still humanoid penis filled with blood and prepped for penetration. He struggled not to panic, but an alarm raised as he felt a cock brush against the side of his butt. Grunting past dried lips, he heaved himself towards the nearby dead body which reeked of decomposition. Grasping desperately for the machete he knew had been nearby, his fingertips brushed over the handle just as two j'avos stood on either side of the Ruka, reaching down to dig their fingers into the flesh of Piers' ass cheeks, their nails biting into the flesh as they dug in hard, droplets of blood stung as they trickled down his cheeks to his thighs, and Piers gritted his teeth as his fingers frantically managed to grip the machete. Any feeling of victory was replaced with urgency as the hot, velvety tip of a cock was pressed hard against his puckered hole, like a battering ram against a gate. Huffing out an exhale even as it felt as if someone stabbed him in the ribs, using what energy he had left to lift the machete and twist himself at just the right ankle, and that machete was brought down swiftly, castrating the Ruka who meant to ruthlessly fuck him. A j'avo nearby reached to grab him by the wrist, twisting the arm behind his back hard enough that it broke his wrist bone as his hand trembled, his fingers held their grip for as long as they could until they shook, too much, the machete yanked from his hand.

Harsh voices were in the air above him as they communicated in a language he couldn't decipher. His ass was still splayed for the world to see by the two j'avos pulling his cheeks apart, but the Ruka rose from its crouched position and snarled as it's severed cock flopped to the floor underfoot, squirting blood from the exposed veins which had been filled. There was a pause as the j'avos held him in place, and even as blood and gore covered the inner thighs and ball sack of the Ruka, it's legs began to twitch violently as it's hips jutted forward. He attempted to look over his shoulder, but the fractured collarbone caused a surge of sharp pain as he moaned in frustration. There was no way to watch the horror that took place as the Ruka underwent further mutation. A bloody gash had been left where its cock once was, and the gash began to pulsate, exposed flesh quivering as the Ruka gave a gurgling noise. It's testicles were sucked up from the scrotum as they disappeared up into its body, a squishing sound as the Ruka's naked body trembled, bulging eyes flickering around like a madman. As if giving birth, blood spattered in every direction as mutated flesh sprouted from the gash, wriggling like a worm as it's girth increased, the mutant cock thicker than the human one before. Bulging barbs randomly grown had stuck out from the flesh of the newly grown 'cock,' the tips edged, yet the barbs cleverly shrunk down back into the cock as it stiffened and pointed forwards, directly towards the vulnerable ass of Piers. Squinting his eyes as his head hung, knowing at least that fuck of a creature would no longer know what it felt like to have a dick, right? Footfalls behind him were heard, the same heavy feet of the Ruka, and Piers attempted to smirk. Inhaling a shuddering breath as his body trembled briefly, the hands of the j'avos began to grope at the round flesh of his bleeding ass cheeks, a feeling of disgust before his eyes blinked and went wide. Behind Piers, the Ruka crouched once more and mounted above him, but this time, when the tip of it's dark, slimy cock met Piers' exposed asshole, it was so slick that there was no defense from the penetration, and his ass did indeed stretch open to unwillingly accommodate the invading girth of the cock which pushed into him, earning a growling sound of approval from the Ruka who breathed like a snarling beast above him, and his mouth gaped open in agony as that cock pushed up his tanned ass.

Fire surged through his lungs as his entire body went rigid, twitching inches of death creeping inside of him and drawing a scream of agony as the thick girth of the beast's cock shoved deep inside of his bowels. There was no pretense, only the mangled body beside him, staring at him with blank dead eyes, laughing at him while it's friends sloppy erection plunged into him, a sound escaping his lips before he told himself to shut the fuck up, the mutated meat was brushing against his sensitive prostate gland, and it caused a leg to twitch every now and then beneath the hulking Ruka. It was greedily pressing passed the tight, reddened ring of muscle burning and bleeding, penetrating deep inside him, pumping its squishing cock inside raised hips. Blood was already pouring from the wound in shoulder but he could feel nothing except the rigid, savage groaning and thrusting into his very gut. Filling his body with thick veined meat that pulsed with every thrust. He couldn't hear beyond the rushing in his ears as cracked nails clawed into his hip, tearing tissue and flesh to get as deep inside him as he could. His body was numb apart the feeling of disgust and shame, flesh sliding inside and out, penetrating his tight ring of muscles, tearing his body into pieces from the inside out, bucking its hips until the lewd slapping of flesh was the only thing he could hear. For a long while, that was the only sound that could be heard as the j'avos simply stared down at him with bulging eyes, unblinking.

Its cock began throbbing more furiously inside him, and Piers gave a sickened moan as he could feel every pulse from that cock within him, the Ruka groaning and laughing wildly with that maniacal howl over him, knowing the human body underneath him couldn't fight back, refusing even Piers' defeated pleas to get himself away. Those pleas had simply been drowned out by the slick sound of a cock fucking his own asshole and foreign hips and thighs slapping against his bloodstained ass. Just when it seemed that nothing could be worse, the Ruka's mutated cock suddenly sprouted out it's barbs, while it was buried to the base within his stretched asshole. Piers screamed, it was all he could do as the barbs stuck into the flesh inside of his ass, one particular barb nudging firmly against his prostate, and it caused his scream to trail off into a shaky moan, wanting to bite his own tongue off for letting out such a sound as the Ruka above him laughed once more.

Forcing its weight into the blade of his shoulder, the Ruka felt the human body beneath him go slack, knowing the soldier had finally passed out. Whether from blood loss or pain, it made no difference, it took advantage of the limp body, thrusting deeper inside the hot cavity of his abused body and humping the ass like a horny dog in desperation, the mutant happily took in that sense of victory over the soldier as it mercilessly fucked Piers' deep in the ass. The viruses of Umbrella had always created creatures that had a need, a certain ache to infect and procreate their own virus and this man's ass would do fine for this. Cackling out through its throat the beast over him, crammed itself deeper, moving faster and faster as the body beneath him shivered in pain. Babbling in whatever incoherent speech it knew how, it released the grip on Piers' shoulder and replaced it with the Ruka's pinchers gripping Piers by the back of his head, grinding his face into the ground until it pulled him back into its sick reality with another ragged gasp, his face scratched from the concrete his face had been ground into, and he howled in pain and a betrayal of his own body as his mouth let out a few series of almost pleased yelps as those damnable barbs of that cock scraped the inside of his ass raw. It's laughter was drawing others, clawing the fabric that still covered his back with the broken nails of it's one humanoid arm as it pumped itself close to climax, to turn this soldier into a breeder.

"CHriss!" His crackling voice was torn away, cut off as another j'avo gripped his hair, arching his head upwards enough while its pants were yanked down to its ankles, its rigid cock was bent slightly upwards as it bobbed in front of his face, and Piers had little fight in him as it force itself inside of his mouth the tip of that unclean cock pressed against the inside of his cheek, causing his cheek to bulge outwards, lips agape from the pain of the beast inside him began to swell, barbs digging deeper into the inside of his ass, choking off his scream with a cock stuffing itself against the back of his throat, swallowing noises followed from his throat as he reflexively tried adjusting to the j'avos dick, unintentionally squeezing down on it with his throat. Bile immediately threatened as he felt disgust surging through him, the veins along its length in his mouth throbbing until he bit down blood filling his cheeks as the beast pulled away briefly, before it began to mutate, its own cock growing a thicker, tougher epidermis as it healed itself, now discolored, it reached and gripped his head once more, this time its nails scraped down Piers' scalp, cutting into the flesh as blood would begin to move down the sides of his head. Stuffing its cock past Piers' pouted, bloody lips, it began to fuck the soldiers face, straight back down into his throat, forcing him to swallow his own bile and the j'avo's blood. Piers gagged even as his teeth bit down once more, but this time there was no use, there was no penetrating the skin around that cock, and so he could only give a slurping grunt as the j'avo pounded his face with it's crotch, his head held in place by the pinchers of the Ruka, and as the j'avo howled, it blew it's hot load right down his throat, not even giving him the opportunity to spit it back out, and his eyes watered, saliva dripping down his chin as he could only feel the seed being implanted into his gullet. After the j'avo was spent, it released its grip upon his head just before the Ruka still pounding him smashed his head back down against the concrete.

Above him, the mounted Ruka with the cock from hell continued to pound him into submission, his hips continued to thrust, laughing despite its partner's blood gushing from between Piers' teeth. Groggily, Piers could hear other j'avos barking in their foreign language between sadistic laughter, and the cock that had made Piers' ass it's home suddenly began to withdraw. Sputtering out a pathetic plea, as the cock was pulled back, it paused as the tip of the cock hovered over a certain point of interest; his prostate gland. Piers couldn't have possibly imagined the level of humiliation that would come next. As the Ruka pulled back, the engorged tip of it's cock began to tremble, the slit of the cock suddenly splitting open the tip of the cock in the shape of a toothless mouth. As the mutated cock opened its mouth, tiny tentacles flickered out as if they were tongues, and they danced around Piers' prostate, probing it. Piers blinked his eyes rapidly as one of his legs began to twitch right down to the foot and toes, gasping in a high tone as the feeling caused a tingling in his lower stomach. As the Ruka remained above him, patiently mounted, the cock slithered like a serpent while somehow remaining stiff, the tentacles retreating back into the open mouth at the tip of the cock which drooled pre-cum all around Piers' prostate. Without warning, the mouth of the tip of the Ruka's cock opened wider before it crammed itself against the prostate gland, furiously suckling against it as Piers shook his head furiously, opening his mouth to growl in anger, yet what came out instead was a ragged moan, his body betraying him and succumbing to the Ruka's mutant cock which sloppily tugged and sucked against his prostate. Piers' eyes watered more as he could feel his own cock stiffening from the stimulation. Each time his lips parted, cracked mumbling came out, broken ordinarily by gasps. It was too much to bear, the punishment against his body, the meat inside of him, and now the teasing of his prostate. His breathing rose to moans as he was moments away from spilling a load right between his knees.

Howling in amusement, the Ruka seemed to know how close Piers' was, as it's cock's split slit which opened as a mouth worked away inside of Piers' ass, and just as Piers was about to cum, the cock grew straight as it thrust deep inside his tight, quivering body, not bothering to stifle it's groan as the body went rigid, clinging his hips to him as Piers choked and spattered blood and vomit, crying out as the cock once more sprouted it's barbs as the cock was pushed as deeply into him as it could go, the mutated mouth at the tip of the Ruka's cock inside sent thick ropes of cum into him body, the seed had shot up his ass with more force than any normal cock could. Shaking underneath it as it finally released him, it kept its cock within the ass of the soldier beneath him as Piers body went slack, remaining that way as if reminding the soldier of his own defeat before the barbs retracted, the cock easily sliding out of his ass, allowing the slack body of Piers to fall, unconsciousness finally swallowing him.


	3. Chapter 3

**SAVE HIM CHRIS!**

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"Splatter pattern here captain. He got hit, at least once, his 9-0-9 is at the bottom of the staircase, along with a blood trail."

Chris winced, hearing the words sent a chill through his body that made his hands tighten on the grip guard of his own weapon. He'd known what Piers was planning before this, jumping rooftops from one to the other until he hit the fire escape two more blocks away, but he'd never made it that far. There was always a chance he wouldn't be capable of doing it, thus the maintenance stairwell, at least it gave Chris a starting point to finding him. As soon as his team reported in without his partner they were immediately back out in the shit, no longer carrying the weight of a mission on his shoulders, but the life of a comrade. Chris didn't care how HQ felt about a failed mission, he wouldn't leave his youngest member of his team out there alone, resign him for dead. Particularly not Nivans. Piers was too young for this to begin with, let alone for people to sign his death warrant without even trying. On top of being young, on top of being alone, Piers was so much more to him. Chris had grown instantly attached to him, his person was too perfect that he couldn't bare the idea of his pain. He was... important. The kid was an ace marksman and an excellent shot, though, whatever happened here, he hadn't made it back for a reason. "Bullet hole in the wall suggests it hit his shoulder. Piers is what... 5'11? No way that hit was anything else would have stayed lodged in his body. That shouldn't have taken him out." Particularly not considering the kid had the resilience afforded to men who understood survival, resilience that only Chris rivaled..

Swallowing, he followed the track of darkened blood, hours old, wincing at the thought of his partner being dragged down this flight of stairs. It was plainly obvious that it had happened that way, the track was smeared, which mean someone dragged him through it. Walking on his own, Piers wouldn't have left such a mark, there would have been drops. Chris gripped the weapon, disregarded on cement, knowing the weight of it before confirming for himself. Tough pads of his thumb released the magazine from the standard issue handgun, checking the crease for the glittering copper heads that shown in the dark of the stairwell, tossing it underhandedly with a grunt to one of the men. Standing definitely as the other holstered the weapon with his own. "It has six shots in it. He had to have been unconscious." No way his partner tossed his gun without it being completely empty of ammunition, let alone relinquishing it willingly. Guilt took hold of alpha leader's chest, tracking the blood and gore from the building until it hit the streets. Following his blood's journey was starting to make feel sickness threaten his throat. That kind of blood loss was enough to inhibit a man from fighting back. His stomach heaved at the idea of Piers laying dead with his brain dashed out in the street somewhere without his men there to support him. The young ace was sure fire, Chris had trusted him when he said he could do this without so much more than a second thought, but he wasn't prepared for how he was feeling now.

Clutching and prying at his mind he stutter stepped, coming to a halt in the streets, and putting his fingers in the sticky gems, spotting the place where the blood trail changed from dragging, into carrying. The blood was in drops from here, and that made it harder to track, but at least someone had picked him up instead of pulling through all this rubble on war tread streets. They'd been doing this for an hour now, and Chris wasn't any closer to finding him. All he was finding was more men to slaughter, and destroy. How the hell was he suppose to find one soldier in this entire city... "Fan out guys, clear the buildings. Kill anyone you find, I don't care how long it takes.'

Concrete stung coldly at the wounded flesh of dirtied cheeks, biting at him viciously until hazel orbs eventually flickered open, blobs of what he could only assume were feet scooting about his cranium. Crimson was painted on the floor all around him, his own, mingled with that of the j'avo he'd killed, and the one he'd mauled. Looking back on it now he was probably better off to just stop fighting, but his defenses refused to allow that, even broken and battered as he was, even laying in it now he didn't regret it. Pain blossomed from his hips the instant he felt inclined to move them, letting out an involuntary hiss from between his teeth; bits of flesh and blood still caught there. The noise was hardly there, every intake of breath slicing further pain into his ribs and chest, pulling a whine from him hat he hadn't been able to stop from sounding so incredibly helpless. He was laying in a pool of his own vomit and blood, an effort to sound less helpless wouldn't have saved him from the humiliation of what had transpired here. The thought of it tore pain through him, throwing up whatever was left in his gut from the day before, spilling out beside him, unable to pull himself away. How could he have let that happen? How could he lie beneath that monster and felt anything other than misery and anguish. His body had reacted despite all the things it was afflicted with: bullet wound, broken wrist, cracked ribs, broken collar bone. Despite all he'd moaned out underneath that beast and it was revolting.

Cackling mustered from beside him, followed by footfalls that seemed increasingly close to his head, ringing the sound as a foot nudged his scalp, smearing it in the fluids there left on the floor. They'd taken their sweet time hadn't they..., what they done after he'd fallen unconscious, he didn't know. He couldn't stop the unbidden groan as the foot pressed into his skull, burbling laughter ensuing while it pushed more insistently, suddenly replaced by a hand that continued cramming his face into the ground, forcing the foul air into his lungs and scent to curl in his nostrils. Arms and legs refused to move, invisible weights clinging to every joint; his entire being stiff while the j'avo over him chuckled at his misery, prodding the bullet track. "Fuck... you," Piers could barely mouth anything more, his jaw felt practically dislocated; his gut wrenching in agony at the taste on his bruised lips, being forced against his flesh. Instantly he was pulled away from it as dregs of fingers yanked in his once immaculate hair to pull his head up, greeted with the sight of a j'avo, its many eyes flickering to and from only to land all of which to gaze at Piers' face mockingly. It was laughing at him, like all the others had and instantly with the flex of inhuman strength, he was thrown onto his back, his ribs crying at him, pain flourishing anew arching off the ground involuntarily.

Disgust battered his senses when the familiar pang of fear rose in his chest, sending his heart raising the moment j'avo weight pressed a knee into his chest, pushing the oxygen and air from his lungs while it dragged and forced pants off it's hips. "NO!" His cry out was cut off by the inability to feel anything but the break, snapping his ribs where they had only once been fractured, puncturing his lung in the process. Blinding white was behind his eyes, nothing to be seen but the blanket of pain wrapped around his body and mocking eyes as his legs were dragged apart. Whatever dignity he knew he had, Piers shoved it away, feeling his body torn apart for a second time and all previous wounds torn open the minute a impossibly thick head pressed and penetrated into his body. There was that sickly laughter, laughter that was haunting him while eyes drifted shut, tears unhindered while his body was driven down against blood and vomit. It's huge cock grinding against his raw injuries were peeling away his sanity, ripping a cry from him as it clawed away the flesh on his thighs, reaching up to jerk his head forward by his scalp to make him watch. It had been the same from earlier... the one he could still taste the blood of lingering iron in his mouth and he could tell what sick satisfaction it was receiving from pounding into him with that mutated cock. The position was yawning aches against his collar bone and broken ligaments. The grunting above was killing him the pleasured sound of a beast so keen to ravage him. Pounding a thick, throbbing cock into his gut and thrusting deep inside of him, every piece of injured issue lit with fire.

Everything was overly sensitive, every thrust sending tremors over his skin as well as blood over his thighs. Stupid beast was enjoying his humiliation far too much. It was rocking him and thrusting him back into unconsciousness, but each time he felt the blackness sinking in it's blissful teeth it was pull all to quickly away by the creature cramming itself back inside him with redouble its efforts, jarring him into crying. What kind of soldier was he to cry this way. Its growing member was throbbing inside him, thickly pulsing against him and intentionally grinding up into him, forcing his moans while it drove itself into his prostate time and time again, already raw from however long ago it had been. Releasing his head was a blessing, no longer forced to watch as his body betrayed him, his own cock stiffening despite ruthlessness, as it plunged against those nerves inside him. It was howling somewhere between laughter and a grunt, pounding faster inside him reaching for its climax, humanoid fingers grappling to pull Piers until his entire body arched off the ground, driving itself inside; locking his hips with Piers as a burning load of cum shot inside him. The j'avo inside him twitching and chuckling, enjoying pulsing those final moments and watching Piers body's reaction to it. Pulling itself out and yanking its loathsome body away, it kicked a booted foot hard into piers' hip, bare and for whoever or whatever pleased to have him next.

There were already groping hands furiously holding down his arms, tearing into his biceps. It was complete over kill, his limbs wouldn't lift if given the orders to do so, but they were crushing him with their weight anyway, while more laughter joined the old, clinging to him. Eyes rolled up into his head as something else took its place against the reddened raw flesh of puckered abused muscle, yielding easily from the blood and semen already seeping from him to use as lubrication. "Jus'... kill me." his voice was a lull, hoarse in his throat from crying out. The girth tore into the tight ring of heat inside, continuing the work that its brother's enjoyed, taking a bruising erratic pace, it was close already, he could feel it inside him, furiously seeking to fuck him into the concrete. Pounding into him was punctuated by resounding gun shots echoing through his skull, the groping hands holding him down going lax before his upper body was slathered in gore, the head of the man over him bursting, fragments of brain and eye spattering him and the floor as the body fell against him, still inside him.

Gun fire resounded off the walls, but Piers heard none of it, finally allowing himself to drift off until someone was shaking his shoulders, clutching his wounded body, pulling him free and feeling the things inside him slip out, hands pulling him up almost like a child. "Call an evac team now! I don't care who has to do what to get them here, do it now!" Piers couldn't smile but the voice ringing at the edges of his brain was the only one he'd ever wanted to see him in this state. Heavy, he let his head fall against the tactical vest of the man clinging desperately to him, letting himself finally come undone, his mind stolen from him by exhaustion and tears.

Chris clutched at Piers body, holding him to him and resisting the urge to cry out, hit something, anything. There was no sparing Piers from what had happened, the moment Chris had entered the building they'd fanned out fire, he couldn't have opened fire fast enough from the sight before them. The look on his partner's face was like death and if he had enough blood left in him to pass the night it would be a miracle. Piers was a wreck, he was riddled with injuries and on top of that, what that... thing had been doing to him. The noises it had been making while thrusting itself inside. "Hey its alright okay? You're safe now." God how futile that sounded, how on earth was he safe after Chris had failed to save him from getting fucked and ravaged by viral monsters. He was raped and mutilated and held for the last five hours and it ruined him. The team was spread, searching bodies while Chris fumbled, clutching the body of his partner to him, tugging his torn fatigues and pulling them up despite the fluids that clung and seeped from him. He had to cover him, had to make sure no one saw him this way, even though he knew they had. "Piers come on, open your eyes." his hands ghosted over him, kneeling with him, legs tangled and outstretched while he held him around the shoulders. "Say something, anything. Come on Piers."

"Captain, he's barely breathing."

'SHUT UP! You think I don't see that?!" Chris winced, fighting back the urge to break down himself from the man in his arms. His thundering voice jarred the man under him, sputtering blood, coming out with the racking cough that plagued him. Chris gasped, shoving the man who came beside them away, unable to think of them seeing Piers in the kind of state he was. Eyes drifted open just barely, hazel flecks meeting Chris' chocolatey one's, glazed with tears. "Ugh, there you are kid, hey... it's alright, I've got you okay? You're safe." Chris forced himself to smile at him despite the shit they were in and how Piers' body was quivering in his arms. The tremors of his body was like an earthquake to Chris. They'd destroyed him, all but taken everything from a proud and honorable soldier and turned him into nothing more than a husk of a person who could merely stare up at him, lips cracked and bloodied, unable to form sentences. "We'll get you out of here Piers. You have my word. I'm going to make this right."

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**thank god...**


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't want to hear this, don't... just keep it in the report if you have to but I don't want to hear it."

"Captain Redfield, we have to report this to you. If you want him to come back in the field... I mean after he's healed, if you intend on letting him rejoin your unit, you need to know."

"There's no way he's going to want to rejoin the unit..."

"Sir, please listen, You are his medical proxy. I will be as professional about this as I can." The doctor was some sweet, rosy cheeked woman, doing her best not to stutter under Chris' narrowing stare, wincing as he threw his hands in the air, spouting an over-exaggerated 'fine.' What she was was a damn pain in the ass. She waited all but two seconds before continuing with her little rant, taking in a large breath and hardening herself against the rash behavior of the man before her, drumming her fingers on the plastic clipboard in her hands as a nervous refuge. "Your partner's injuries are extensive, but we've actually managed to stop all bleeding. Two of his ribs were broken, puncturing his right lung." Holding up an x-ray that Chris refused to squint at, the woman sighed, resting it amongst the others inside the files. "The other two ribs were merely fractured, we repaired all of that. His collar bone," her manicured little fingers holding up the next x-ray in the large clipped together bunch, tapped to straighten out the film, holding it up despite Chris' refusal to partake in examining them, "It should heal perfectly, _all _his broken bones in fact, including his left wrist, they should all be completely healed in a matter of no time. The field work your team does... even if its strenuous, he should be able to compensate easily and regain a full function. We have had all that under control. The gun shot wound to his shoulder couldn't have been cleaner either. It went through without hitting anything major. So most of his injuries although he lost an extensive amount of blood, honestly were all fairly lucky. He should recover from those without any lasting dama-

"Lucky?! LUCKY!" Chris face turned brilliantly red, fury sweeping up his hand into a fist, pounding it down into the counter, ripping the clipboard from her needy little hands and chucked it across the nurse's station, cracking the clipboard and sending papers flying. The paperwork he needed to sign off on was scattered as well, thrown aside and flopping to the floor while the captain bellowed at her, twisting with rage, x-rays crinkling underfoot. "Lucky that his injuries and broken bones were clean? Define clean please, not filled to the brim with vomit, blood, and guts? You mean apart from them being caused while he was face down in his own fluids? Lucky that he hasn't said a fucking thing since we got him here? You are fucking kidding me right? Luck?! I would love to see how lucky you'd feel if you went out there and had a handful of..." His voice quickly tapered, knowing full well he wasn't allowed to debrief these people on the things that had happened. They were doctors, they couldn't hear what types of creatures lived out there, or what disgusting mutations had transfigured from their human forms. They didn't have clearance, but that didn't stop him from reaching out and smashing her pen cup on the ground, in frustration shaking his head from side to side.

"Its the... its the other injuries I'm more concerned about, please let me continue." Bending in her mini charcoal pencil skirt to scoop paper work and translucent black sheets of information on all Piers injuries nervously,she shuffled all the gathered things until they were neatly stacked, she brushed off her knees and onto the floor before clutching the paperwork all to herself, like it would protect her from Chris' wrath. The man in front of her was heaving, his broad chest rising and falling while he fought to control his anger, hoping that the continued unwelcome descriptions wouldn't earn Chris time in a lock up in the local police station. "About his other injuries, the ones sustained during his assault. He was both orally and anally sodomized," Squealing she dodged quickly around the desk as Chris lashed out, bringing both his fists down on the counter top with tremendous force. cracking the surface while tears leaked at the corners of his eyes. "There was semen and other fluids, a lot of blood. I'm sorry this is hard to hear sir, but I have to tell you these things. The damage he sustained was difficult to chart. I'm not sure how long it will take for those to heal. It all really depends on how easy he is on himself, but I'm guessing it won't be as difficult for him as the post traumatic stress he's about to go through," she raised another hand to hush Chris before he had another outburst at her stating the obvious. "Honestly after we forced you to leave Captain so we could operate it became difficult to keep him from lashing out. Sedating him wasn't a simple task."

"How much more shit are you going to make me listen to huh? You want to tell me how much lasting psychological trauma he's going to have? How if I'd gotten there earlier, or if I hadn't let him go at all that he wouldn't be suffering through this? Think I don't feel bad enough?" That was without voicing the already gathering list of objections that HQ had growing on his partner's condition. If he's going to ever make it back from this? Will he become a shell of who he was? How about the most important question that ran circles in his brain? Was his partner now infected with the C-Virus? Chris' voice was dangerously low, threatening her person with every harm she might imagine without needing to lay a hand on her. Swallowing down a thick glob of concern, eyes canted to the side, he watched his partner's back, dark scraps and purpling bruises clinging to every inch of his physique. His shoulder was a mass of cotton wraps, the white starkly contrast to the broken and ruined skin it covered. Laying there with his back to them so he could see every detail with sickening precision, trailing down to the multiple sets of bruised and gored hand prints and claw marks over his hips, disappearing beneath a hospital issue sheet pulled tight around his waist. Those hand marks were killing him, he knew where they were from, at least the one set... He hadn't seen everything, and from the marred tan flesh on Piers' body it was obvious what he had observed had only been the tip of the loathsome iceberg, he could count the number of people by the sets of bruises. Alpha team had shot the thing with the claws that had marred him so badly, sickle like pronged fingers that grappled and torn the flesh on his face and scalp. He'd also seen what kinds of mutations they underwent and guilt hovered over him at the images that danced in his mind, taunting him over what sorts of twisted things they'd done to his partner while he was trapped there alone. "I'm taking him out of here..."

"He just got out of surgery captain... you are going to need to give us some ti-

Thrashing immediately caught everyone's attention, Piers hands reaching out and clawing as his own throat as every monitor in the room went rife with noise, filling his ear canals with sirens. The doctor shoved Chris back surprisingly hard for someone her size,though no less futile, throwing himself inside the room without a seconds thought. "Piers!" Bleeping warnings raised, hands seeking out thrashing limbs as they attempted to tear at his own skin, raking down and leaving a line of beading gems. Injured or not, his partner was plenty stronger than nurses, and Chris winced having to grab hold of that broken wrist, pulling them away from his throat. A ragged scream tore from his body followed by coughing that brought blood leaking from between his lips. "Piers you have to stop this, you're in the hospital. Come on settle down!" His shouting wasn't helping, the doctor reaching up and pricking a needle into the younger man's neck, pushing down the syringe plunger flush until there was nothing left of the clear fluids she pumped into his veins. "You didn't have to do that... " Chris voice tapered, watching eyes roll up into the younger man's head before he fell slack, all muscles losing their resistance to fight. Larger hands helped to secure the younger one's straps to hold them down as the nurse's got to work stabilizing him, running a hand over cold sweat that had broken out over his forehead, noting the way he turned into contact despite the sedative "He's not dangerous... he's just," he didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want to say that he was scared. Piers was never scared, but the way he'd gone at his own throat it seemed like he was trying to tear out his own voice box. The moment his hand touched Piers, Chris felt light headed, taking the time to really look at the wounds lining his neck, squinting while his thumb grazed the skin. The touch of his flesh was completely different there, the cool dampness almost burning on his neck and traveling further down. His throat was tight, like he was trying to swallow something that wasn't there, and Chris shook it off immediately, letting his fingers trail back up to cradle his face.

As the nurses reattached IVs and buzzed around them anxiously, Chris ignoring them as his partner hummed quietly into his larger hand, stuck staring at the young face. He was so damn beautiful. Even like this... He didn't know when he started thinking of Piers as beautiful... he never had, or at least he'd never wanted to admit it, but his face nuzzling into him like that... The doctor was staring, he didn't care. "I thought you stopped all the bleeding, why's there so much in his mouth." He couldn't tear his eyes away, those pouted lips parting ever so slightly as he breathed in, crimson leaking down over his cheek and pooling, seeping into the pillowcase. Curling into the slightest smile, Chris' thumbed over the sensitive broken tissue, hypnotized by them, dipping a thumb between his lips up to his first knuckle to judge how much more blood was in his mouth, feeling something brush against his thumb and the slick almost burning heat against his rough pad, a wince coming as something pried at his mind letting his irrational side take over. "Doctor get me discharge papers now," ignoring her protests and shutting her up with a glower he continued, "I have clearance to do it, so get the papers now. I'm taking him out of here." the slightest moan came from between Piers' lips and Chris swallowed shaking his head. He didn't care, he didn't want to know. Piers was his partner, he was going to be fine, even if he had to take care of him himself, he wouldn't let HQ turn this into a witch hunt. These people didn't know Piers, this would not be his downfall.

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**huh, I wonder... Anyone who wants to see something in particular I suggest a pm or review, because I'm taking suggestions now on how this goes... this is probably the safest chapter allowed in this.**


	5. Chapter 5

A scream tore that reverberated the windows in the room jarred Chris from his station in the corner chair, lurching to full alertness, ripped from a light slumber that never fully took hold. Fucking nightmares! Piers body thrashing against the blankets that had constricted around his torso, clinging like second skin and confining him into screams, was a horrible sight. Clawing frantically, fingers pulled and yanked, a silent sob wracked from Piers' entire being while he called out for his captain to save him yet again. It'd been a week and he hadn't been able to sleep a full night. Nightmares were always the same. They wrapped up his entire essence and reminded him over again what it was to be taken and mauled by creatures that lay hidden from the rest of the world. Even if Chris had bullrushed inside and saved him from those damnable things in reality, in his mind Piers was never saved, he cried out in agony as they raped him over again, an unending cycle of pain. Yanking the wadded up blankets, Chris, climbing into the bed with the body that continued to writhe and squirm until his partner wrapped his arm around his torso incurring a yelp when nails scratched raked down the tight fitting fabric over Chris' broad chest. Holding him against his will was hold a wild thing, sweat breaking out over his lithe body as it fought to get limbs free of thick muscled appendages holding him in place, shaking ever so gently. "Hey, partner, wake up, your okay. I've got ya." Holding on to Piers was like holding on to a python that turned over in his arms and in his own skin until consciousness finally spat him loose from j'avos eating his soul. He squirmed and clawed in all futility the same as the day, making a strained sound in the back of his throat, the strangest noises while he was unconscious, until the biting nails finally ceased seeking for invisible groping claws, and his hands uncurled, going slack in Chris' arms just breathing together. "You alright?' Piers was weak enough for Chris to still him. It was becoming easier to pry the coiling snakes of nightmares away from his mind, but it was also becoming far more difficult to hold on to Piers. He was getting stronger each day, which meant to Chris he was on the mend.

He released a bated deep breath, daring to relax his hold about smooth pectorals, cranium thunking backward against the iron cast headboard rungs, feeling the spacing against two parts of his head but the back of his skull tapping the wall. Piers stayed quietly in his arms for a few minutes, unmoving apart from the shallow breathes that signified he was still awake, shuffling his legs, confined in pant legs. The longer they stayed there, it seemed that he was becoming comfortable in his own skin again until quiet irregular gasps reverted back to broad encompassing sighs, slumber allowing him at least some rest until the sunrise's arrows would pierce them to alertness. Taking in his concern and shoving it aside, Chris altered the body in his arms until he was back on the bed, trying with all cautiousness not to disturb him from peace.

After a spasm like that he'd needed to redress his shoulder, the discolored rags clinging persistently in place apart from holes torn at the fine fibers by digging fingers. Every time this happened Piers managed to tear a stitch or five and it would leave is captain to silently right his way back to recovery. Gathering the supplies from the bedside table, yanking the drawer open with a hefty wrench, he started unwrapping the wound. Cotton wraps coiled off the edge of the bed, tumbling down the precipice onto the floor, quickly followed by a pad. Tugging smoothly until there was nothing left to cover the distressed flesh, Chris ghosted his thumb over the injury, grappling him forward at the waist to check the hole in his back as well where the bullet had exited. His back had been where the most damage was done. They were fond of tormenting that place, making it bleed and tearing away bits of flesh and muscle every time they thrust a finger inside the woeful hole. Thankfully it was starting to heal, with enough attention the wound honestly wouldn't look too bad after it was done. Anything to do with that spot generally made Piers cross though, so he quickly redressed it, pleased to find there were no torn stitches.

This was the one time Chris could look at Piers without the younger man seeing the look on his face. It was obvious that there was a fair amount of corruption to his body still, and Piers didn't want Chris looking at him with that sorrowful gaze. Chris shook it off and got to work reapplying ointments to devastation, tucking the cotton strips around each other so they were comfortably snug, securing the gauze against minute strands keeping his skin together. With the blankets off it made things easier, easier to see all his injuries anyway, and to see his body. He had to check the depressions and slices, the wounds that had riddled him; it was his job as his partner to take care of him,still, this also gave him time to look at other things. Chris had been feeling uncomfortably attached to Piers lately, even with the events that passed, getting time to watch him was almost a blessing because there was no judgement of how Chris was feeling, considering he had no idea what that even was exactly. While they were apart from one another it seemed like everything had returned to the way it should be between partners, but then as soon as he could smell him, as soon as he could touch him, Chris was drawn by something much more than concern. The man below him was like an aphrodisiac and there were no defenses again it. It was getting difficult to understand, but he wasn't all together certain he wanted to.

Trailing his fingers away from the shoulder wound, he conceded himself to breath, letting them journey over tanned war hardened dips and lines, raising goosebumps under his fingertips, tracing scabbed over scratches and claw marks that began at his lower stomach down to his waist. He was wearing Chris' work out sweat pants, and that was it, and those hung loosely at best around his hips. Whatever they were, Chris bit the inside of his cheek, pushing away the feelings it stirred in his lower stomach. There was still the claw mark that had been stitched up on his thigh, and he had to dress that too. Reluctantly at first, Chris peeled the fabric down off his hips, pushing down that finally crafted, albeit partly mutilated body. Chris couldn't help but lock his eyes on everything under him, so damnably forbidden . How had he gotten under him? Shaking his head to escape the thought, he shifted backward to end of the bed, checking the stitching on his leg to make certain they hadn't torn when the thrashing started. The marred flesh was healing better on his legs than on his shoulder, and for that much he was please. His hands drifted over the injuries, tracing finger bruises in his hips and relaxed thighs, Chris could help himself but lean down and kiss one. Warmth washed over him immediately as the heat of the figure underneath him seemed to flood every sense, seeking out and kissing battered broken skin, hoping to heal the hurt done there until he came to his hip, trailing his tongue over the mark, with the urgency to taste olive skin.

What was he doing? Didn't matter... Piers hummed under him, shifting his body up into the heated contact which was all too happy to oblige. Chris took the hint, closing chocolate brown eyes and sealing his mouth over the warm ruin on his hip, sucking at the flesh, grazing white enamel over it, relishing the noises it earned him. Idle hands found themselves constricting to hold his thighs, gripping the flesh, resulting in Piers arching his spine off the cool planes of mattress, broken lips partly agape. Fuck he was beautiful, and with grey sweatpants pulled down to his knees and no sheets on the bed to impair the vision, there was no hiding the ways warm kneading lips were effecting that figure. Hazel eyes flickered open watery and confused, but lust flooded them immediately, fluttering shut again while Chris nibbled at the place on his hip that was causing him to border on whine. Fingers weren't idle, trying to find something to hold while strong calloused hands pressured against his thighs, pushing open well shaped, muscular legs as far as the cloth trapping him would allow. Piers' hands eventually fumbled, seeking, and finding Chris' hair no matter how short and pulling his mouth away from his hip, guiding him willfully up the bed, pulling forcefully, almost violently, gasping as that tongue darted out over his chest, until Chris was completely over him, his elbows on dipping the pillow on either side of his head. He didn't allow either to catch their breath, snaking a fierce grip tightly over backside of Chris' head, through the short strands of hair and crushing their mouths together. Chris couldn't have pulled away if he wanted to, but that was the furtherest thing from his mind. Urgh, and there was that burning sensation. His mouth was on fire, liquid velvet and Chris melted into him, forcing his way into Piers mouth which parted easily, sliding his tongue over Chris.' Previous cracked and torn skin, pulled open while prying hands kept them locked there, salty iron mingling against lips that fused together and inside his mouth until it was all he could taste. Vice like fingers were trapping him in place, locking their mouths together without any sign of letting him go, and fuck he was burning up.

This was right. Piers needed to feel good. Hell even if they were just partners, there was no reason why he couldn't make him feel like what happened wasn't the end of the world. There was nothing wrong with wanting to steal his breath until he was gagging for more, fill that blinding heat of his mouth. The way those grinding hips of the tawny brunette kept urging up into Chris spoke volumes of any kind of concern he might have had about this being wrong. Pushing them down with one rough palm on taut lower abs, Chris pinned him there, the other hand snaking unabashed around heated flesh, teasing the erection between them. Piers gasped into his mouth, tongue flicking over Chris' and pushing its way into his mouth, at the touch, demanding more while the older man sucked on his tongue. It was when he felt that second warmth slide almost to the back of his throat that Chris jerked away, bolting from the bed and into the doorway, heaving. Every thought and action fleeing him as he gasped and looked out into the pitch black of the rest of the house, his body shaking from exertion.

Lord what was he thinking? This was Piers, this was his partner, this was... so very wrong. Studying over his shoulder he spotted how the younger soldier was already pulling up unforgotten blankets and anything else he could muster around himself, refusing to greet Chris' soft brown orbs, his jaw clenched. Wrapping himself like a cocoon out of the discarded cotton sheets, his hand clutched the raw fiery tissue on his neck, and turned away. God he felt like an ass. Piers just went through a major trauma... how could he? Chris had to swallow down everything, his cock was killing him, those kinds of thoughts that led to those kinds of actions, those were going to be the death of him. It didn't matter how good that felt, it was taking advantage of his partner. "Piers I... I just wanted you to know its okay... I didn't mean to do that, its just. You will be fine." What the hell did he mean by , he didn't mean to do that? Who makes out with their partner and claims that they didn't mean to. It wasn't like he slipped and fell and caught himself with Piers' tongue. Speaking of his tongue, what on earth had happened while they were kissing? Fuck just drop it Chris, leave him alone!

* * *

**Should have taken him while you had the chance Christopher...**


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm fine captain. It was just a misunderstanding."

"You shut up." Chris pointed an accusing finger in Piers' direction to silence his croaking voice, not turning his directing gaze from Marco's sweating face. "How _long_ has he been here Marco?" Don't ring his neck Chris, get your answers first, then ring his neck. Squeeze it until there's no air in his lungs, tissue bends under your fingers and his lips turn blue. Choke him to death on that invading, unwanted tongue. He felt like a goddamn principal, only his kids were full grown military trained men, playing with high powered weapons, and had been caught making out. He wasn't looking at Piers, who was perched silently on the counter top, cross legged with his elbows on his knees. He looked impressively like his old self again; full military dress, fatigues, rigging, B.S.A.A. uniform, and that scarf pulled to cover the lower half of his face, which was at the moment he was certain flush with color. He had that sort of dejected look on his face, and Chris didn't even have to turn his head to know he was sulking. He knew why too... he wanted the rifle. He knew what happened at his place last night was shocking, and hell he shouldn't have touched him that way, no matter how good it felt for either of them, but this was not the reaction he'd expected at all. Waking up to check on the kid and finding that there wasn't a trace of him anywhere to be seen. He spent three hours trying to find in, imagining his lying in a ditch somewhere, imagining the worst. Hell he'd only found him when Marco left him a message that Piers was at the range with him. At least Piers hadn't lost his abilities as a ghost sniper. Chris had finally relaxed when he found that the younger man at least had had a member of Alpha team to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. That was until he got there only to see the two with his tongue down Piers throat, and a rifle in Piers' hands. Was he really so desperate for attention? Did Chris really make him feel bad enough to seek out someone else to make him feel less disgusting, or was that all a rouse just to get hold of the steel death Marco had easily offered him?

"Since four this morning... he called me on the phone, asked me to pick him up. He was already in full gear captain, how was I suppose to know he wasn't cleared. He seems fine to me. Its not like its was an inconve-

"SHUT UP!" Chris was livid, starting to pace the room, continuing to clench and unclench his great meat hooks for hands, wondering just what punishment he'd face for killing a member of alpha unit. Who let's a man who just went through emotional trauma go to the shooting range with a wide variety of weapons and just hands over the box of shells? More importantly, didn't it seem in the least bit strange to him that Piers was calling him at four in the morning, when he was staying with Chris Redfield?! How had Marco not been concerned with the haggard appearance of their rookie ace, he did not look okay, that had been an outright lie. He was geared up sure, but physically he was a wreck. On top of that, how had his one married officer wound up groping any part of his body that Piers would let him? Chris swallowed back his violence and looked across the room at the younger man, trying not to explode fury on the both of them. "Do you have any idea what could have happened? Just take a good look would you? You honestly think he should be out on the range with a high caliber rifle?" In all honesty he was more horrified at the idea of Piers unloading a shell in his own head, than anything else. He was suppose to look after him. And there he was sitting there, resting his face on his fists and staring anywhere but the people involved. After nightmares, and explosive screaming that was still ringing his ear drums, he couldn't imagine there was anything else in his partner's head than putting an end to it. He was seconds from laying Marco out flat or turning his face inside out with his fist. He wanted to beat the living crap out of him until there was nothing left to that face until he understood how many things he'd done wrong. On top of all the wrong, that man had put his hands on his partner, _his partner. _Put his hands over those sculpted hips that way. He would have continued screaming too if Piers hadn't interjected, the rasp in his voice horrifying compared to the usual smooth tenor he hadn't heard in a week, it was hard to hear him at all.

"Nothing happened, captain. I failed a mission, I got injured that was it. I'm stitched up, and if I can walk I can use my rifle."

"The hell you can! You can barely say five words without a wracking cough and blood coming out your mouth. I'll deal with you later, quit talking. On top of that, Marco, when the _fuck_ did you decide it was alright to start sucking face with my partner?! He's half dead on his feet and you decided NOW was a good time to explore how you feel about men? **_WITH PIERS_**!? Let me drill this into your head, he is _my_ partner, _mine_!" At this point it was bite your cheek and swallow time, if either of them had decided to fight back it would have been a disaster. Piers was ignoring that Chris had just ripped the two of them apart like there wasn't room to breath between them. How could he ignore that after they had almost fucked a few hours earlier? Probably because Chris had ignored it too. Damn it, this was not his fault... Talk about post traumatic stress disorder, this whole situation stunk of chaos. Either Piers was just nervous about talking about it, or it was exactly what Chris thought and the kid just wanted to get his hands on his gun. It seemed to be the only thing in this situation that he was willing to confront, he wouldn't even say anything about what happened with Marco. This was getting more complicated by the second. Marco hated gay people... loathed them, and after he'd yanked them apart he'd noticed the exact same sputtering and confusion that Chris had felt earlier. The real question here was what the heck was wrong with Piers that suddenly people couldn't stop themselves from touching him, and had the other soldier noticed that strange little anomaly in his mouth?

"Marco just get out!" Chris' voice was overpowering, it demanded presence and commanded obedience from the soldier who had obviously not understood anything of what had happened, just wanting to flee. He waited until the door clicked shut, silence wrapping around them briefly before slamming that huge hand against the wall, shuddering under the force while he beat back his rage the best he could. "Piers, you can't say nothing happened, you can't mean that. You were barely alive. I was there, _I_ saved you, remember? I know what happened to you and it sure as hell wasn't nothing, it was everything _but_ nothing. You can't brush it off like you are fine and get back to work. You were making out,... with Marco!... What happened last night shouldn't have happened, that was my fault, but what just happened, that was yours, you aren't alright, something is wrong with you. And its not just psychological, I know you know that. And no you can't have your gun, I'm done with that conversation entirely so don't ask."

"Captain I'm fine. We're trained to cope with every situation"

"You realize I'm the one that has to sign off on your return to the unit right, you know that bullshit line means absolutely nothing. Your shoulder is mauled, your thigh is hardly healed. You've got internal injuries. My neighbors hate you because you keep them up all night with your screaming. You just made out with a man you have _repeatedly_ chided on being the dumbest you've ever known. You are _not_ alright! You can't even talk about what happened to you without getting sick. Hell you can barely talk at all! Piers..." Stop yelling at him Chris, look at him, everything you are saying is killing him. Piers was staring hypnotized at the office door, looking like he was about to bolt, the scarf in front of his face permitting only the slightest view of blood trickling from between his abused lips, shivering under the weight of everything his captain was saying. How can you yell at him... talk about doing everything wrong. It wasn't like he was responsible for any of this. He was a kid, a twenty two year old kid that had just experienced the most degrading treatment in his life. It was natural for him to be a bit wrecked, its natural to seek comfort, which you denied him. Normal Piers would never be cowering like this from Chris, normal Piers would have slugged him and told him to man up. Dark rings echoed of that night's excursions and how he probably hadn't slept a wink, the fiery spark in his hazel eyes completely gone, and the dark blood was just falling in a line, seeping into the material on his scarf before Chris instinctively crossed the room, reaching out; peeling away the tendrils of mesh and wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. "Piers, you're bleeding again." Way to state the obvious Redfield, but it was all he could do. He was staring at that mouth again and completely unable to look away.

He didn't want to see Piers like this, torn and broken. Piers was his, _his partner_, and no one else could have him, no matter how messed up he was. At least he still had that bravado he was worried about him losing, enough to steal off in the middle of the night and fool Marco that he was perfectly fine, talk him out of a few shells and his rifle. This was his though, no one else was allowed to touch him. No j'avos, no team mates, just Chris. He couldn't forget the heat, the overwhelming warmth when their lips locked together, or the pretty noises he made while Chris' fingers had wrapped around him. And now Marco knew what that heat tasted like, heard those urgent noises that could bring Chris to full arousal without any pretense. That wasn't right, the very idea of it was making his muscles tense. Why was it every time he was this close to that body he couldn't focus on anything but this? Hazel eyes were boring into him, but Chris didn't notice them, just continued to drag his thumb through the thick trail of blood at the corner of his mouth, smearing it along his bottom lip. Letting himself succumb to the irrationality that plagued his mind and leaning forward. He darted that of his tongue out, tasting the blood. Piers had stopped breathing entirely while the tip of that tongue swept over his pouted, cracked bottom lip. He liked tasting Piers, he was a mixture of exotics, both salty and savory, but so very sweet at the same time. He was driven.

"Captain...?" Voice barely there, Chris shoved forcibly, plowing a lean form against the wall, all the strength in those large muscular appendages holding fast to the wall while he plunged his tongue into that mouth. This was his mouth, he had to remove anything doubtful of that that Marco had left. Legs that were pretzaled immediately disentangled from themselves and dropped on either side of Chris' body. He was whimpering into his mouth, letting Chris completely dominate him, tasting every corner, searching for whatever it was that caused him to stop the night before. Where was it? And those noises he made, those were his too. Piers threw Chris back with impressive ease, tripping on his own feet, the younger man on him instantly, shoving him up into the door, with a forearm across his throat. Crushing their lips together, devouring Chris' shock by pushing his tongue deep his mouth. One hand fought with the zipper of Chris' jeans deliberately, rough palms finding slim shoulders and introducing Piers' roughly knees to the floor. What are you doing Chris, you just apologi- "_Fuck!_" Chris banged the back of his head on the door as Piers' mouth instantly wrapped around his cock. "Piers, slow down." Chris was fumbling to put his hands somewhere, anywhere. Feeling that intense heat around him was driving him crazy, feeling those lips bob around his head and down to the base of him, tongue sliding along the thick veins, before finally finding the counter-top at his side to grip until he was white knuckled.

Urgh, there was no slow testing the waters, no slow and drawn out, it was sinful and undeniably just the urge to get him off. Then there it was, that second velvet he'd searched for with his mouth, coiling around his cock like a snake urging him down into his throat, craving to taste that length. "Piers... I, wha," Don't ask, just shut up and let him suck you off until you spill a thick load down that overbearingly heated throat, he couldn't form a sentence if he wanted to anyway. Chris felt the hum, tight swallowing making the suckling sounds that could have melted ice, as that warm slick muscle twined around him, giving friction as his swelling erection pulsed his mouth. Whatever that was was sliding over him, like a second tongue, writhing and throbbing tight delicious friction until there was nothing but white behind his eyes, it didn't matter, it felt like fucking bliss. He was burying that cock as deep as it would go and Piers was devouring it, teasing the slit in head with that second tongue, licking and stealing the precum he was almost milking from him. Personal inhibition disregarded, Chris' fingers found the back of his head, bucking into that mouth, relishing the way Piers managed a moan around his stiffened meat. The vibration a moan shivered over him and whatever held him there, was sliding that resonating sensation with the same feeling over his entire length until he couldn't breath. His head banged against the back of the door again, tightening his grip on his scalp as he felt his cock swell, all but fucking his partner's mouth and down into his throat until he felt that slick heat clenched around him, brushing urgently around the head of him, pulling a groan that tore from the depths of his chest, that sounded so akin to a growl as he came. Thick ropes of cum gagged his partner as that second warm tongue slipped from around him, sliding over the tip of him almost licking away the last fluids. Piers fell backward on his palms when Chris finally released him, gasping for air.

"Shit..." Chris couldn't see anything, just blinding white as his legs shook to hold him up. "What just..." Shut up Chris, zip up your pants and don't ask him. He doesn't need that, look at him. Blinking rapidly, vision returned, his eyes falling on the younger man, shaking on the floor, lines of saliva clinging to his lips and chin, blood starting to mingle in with it as it seeped from between his pouted lips. "Hey... Piers." Chris what on earth did you do? Chris winced watching a shaking hand come up and smear away the blood, shallow breathes making him look more and more light headed. his fingers were finding all the familiar places, bloody mouth, the back of his head where pinchers had grappled hold of him, where Chris had gotten hold of him... He was lost, sitting there in a pool of crumpled up limbs, staring at his own hands and shaking, images dancing in front of his face of bestial creatures, j'avo laughing as the fucked his mouth, as they'd torn though the tissue in his throat. His chest heaved as he started coughed, tipping his head down and spitting tissue on the linoleum flooring. Grab him Chris. Piers was just sitting there starting to shake his head back and forth frantically. Chris bending down immediately to take a hold of him.

_You know you want this, look what you just did. You're filthy. Just can't get enough of them can you. You want something in that mouth of yours, can't breath or live without it. You want someone to fuck that pretty face until you suffocate. Bulging eyes flickered from every direction, those huge irregular irises seeking him out of every corner, forcing his head off the ground while his body lay completely helpless. Clawed, use to be finger like tips twisted his head, lips forced agape as a thick, discolored member pushed passed everything and into his throat. His body reacted without him wanting it to, sucking the hot flesh in his mouth until he couldn't breath only to pull back in it's finally moments and shoot its load over his lips and face, laughing a the while with its skeleton face._

Piers dropped slack in Chris' arms, his entire body shaking. No there was no denying it now... even if he wanted to. Piers was infected.

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**Alright! I had requests! So those of you who want to see something, be aware all these things came from requests and my filthy mind.**

**Hallucinations! (Which are going to get worse believe me, thanks for that one!), Mutations (You'll see more of that too, but that one was mine, and hilariously GMTA because also it was requested), Epic BJ (not sure how epic that was, but Chris liked it!), Piers' nightmares (love it!), and Suicidal tendencies!Oh and I almost forgot to add, the pheromone reaction he has on people too close to him. That one is humorous and confusing at the same time! BWAHAAHA  
**

**So now that you people are aware that I take requests on these chapters, the field is open! Who wants to see what, pm or comment away!**

**Sorry Piers, but there's plenty more to come...  
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	7. Chapter 7

"How long has he been in there captain?"

"I don't know..." Chris massaged rough pads against his temples, circular patterns failing to relieve little to none of the tension that had continued to build over the last few days. There was no avoiding this stage, he was being forced to understand that much. If Piers was going through pain because of physical contact then it was important that he get some peace of mind from his partner. Particularly after what had happened between them. So yes, this was a good thing, that Piers was getting some space, just not the kind Chris approved of that meant his partner would confine himself inside the bathroom in his room for the last few hours. "Three hours... more or less." Sneering, his eyes narrowed, the burbling of voices, a wave crashing into him of relief and discontentment at the same time. Over the last few days Piers had become more and more difficult to be around. He could hardly breath around him, which was making it clear to him that after 'cleverly' deducing his partner was infected, that it was also becoming more obvious that on top of being infected, he was having adverse reactions to the people around him. In all honesty it was making his horny as fuck just to stare at his partner, and it was nice to have someone else there to talk to to take his mind off the pressing matters. Most likely why the kid had locked himself inside the bathroom every day for hours on end, he wasn't naive. Piers was fighting him at every turn, and refused even to be in his sight for half the day. It was obvious his partner had also come to the conclusion that with the door between them he wouldn't do something as rash as what had happened at the range. Still... Chris didn't know if it was what was wrong with his partner, or something else entirely that was getting something tied up inside his stomach every time he looked into those wild, gorgeous hazel oculars. Piers might not be sure how he felt being genuine, but Chris fairly sure of how he felt, this was just making it harder to express without winding up tangled in each other's arms.

Andy had come over perhaps a half hour ago, or maybe it was only five minutes, it was hard to tell. All the clocks in Chris' house had different times on them to correspond with the different time zones and regions... The ticking of the clocks on his walls had droned out his thinking and bore into the last corners of parietal functions. Yes he was pleased for the company, but the sleepless nights were starting to get to Chris, his major sleep debt probing his brain for something to ay to Andy other than an occasional nod. Alpha team was understandably concerned about the young ace. Piers was the baby of the group. He was a man in every sense of the term, but Chris knew it was hard for the guys to greet those eyes steadily without envisioning a younger brother. It made sense with the state that Piers had been discovered in that his men would come to check in on him. The captain had managed to cover tracks well enough that half the team was unaware of all the injuries he'd received there in captivity, like Marco. Since Chris had the authority over Piers medical records that also kept anyone from investigating further to educate themselves on his state of being. Still there had been at least two people who had entered with Chris who had seen the state of affairs as they'd paned out. They had been thoroughly debriefed. Those that hadn't known Piers were all more worried about when he'd get back to work, but those who understood him, spent significant time with him, knew that he lived for the job. His soul was invested in the work that they did, that pure clean soul that had him living and breathing the restoration of their country. It was only a matter of seeing him through tragedy, the deep tissue scars that reached down into that pure soul and mending them and Piers would no doubt be back in the field. Beaten, spattered blood had to be scoured clean, free him from the way they'd found him, barely conscious, barely breathing... He could come away from this. So long as Chris could keep all of this contained.

"How is he? I mean apart from locking himself in there?" Leaning on the door-frame, Andy gave him a small reaffirming smile from behind his goatee he'd been growing out since they'd come home, trying to console Chris that he was doing the right thing.

"Healing..." How on earth would he ever say anything different? It wasn't anyone else's business about how Piers didn't sleep at night, or how Chris had had to take every gun in the house and hide them in a his gun locker at work to avoid his partner seeking them out. He wasn't certain the kid was suicidal, knowing his partner he wouldn't be. But he was technically a B.O.W. and those were the things he had spent his career trying to eradicate. He wouldn't be surprised that Piers would consider it an option. He came out of there every day scrubbed bloody by his own hands trying to wash himself clean. And he wasn't about to say that he was starting to hallucinate. Less than twenty-four hours ago Piers had reluctantly asked the older man to cover the windows in the livingroom to keep the eyes from staring at him. There hadn't been anyone there at all... His wounds were healing though, and at the moment that was what mattered. As soon as Piers was up to par he was going to see about getting that thing out of him. If it was possible.

"Look Chris why don't you just go to sleep. You look awful. If he comes out I'll wake you up. I promise."

* * *

_They're out there Piers, dancing and laughing at you. They know what happened to you, look at you. You can't hide the truth from those eyes, they're prying all the time. They want that sweet heat inside your mouth and that sweeter piece of ass. The javo were only the first, you see the way they look... Take away all those caring lies they keep telling you Piers and you'll know. You already know. _Fingers wound around each other, over and over, consciously ringing themselves, shaking his head back and forth, the bulging wild eyes circling and searching for him, even perched silently in the bathtub with all the lights off. It was dark inside the room except those violent irises staring and goring him. They wanted to steal his sanity, like they'd stolen his pride and virginity. _And you wanted it more than they did, you fucking whore. You want to writhe on the ground and feel a cock penetrating you over and over. You remember how badly your body ached for it when they took you. Even the pain wasn't enough to stop you from getting hard with all those mutated creatures hanging on you._ Piers winced, watching his hands shaking, "I didn't want that. I'm a soldier, I didn't... It was suppose to be different." Tenderizing his lip by gnawing on it continuously while groaning out in misery, while the voice crept through his brain, clinging to his sanity and ramming against it. _What's the matter Piers? You wanted that first time to be special? It was, you'll never forget it. Don't you enjoy reliving the details, drilling them into your mind over and over? You just wish they'd let you finish. Isn't that what you really want, to finish?_

Wincing, tears formed dew drops and swelled at the corners of his hazel eyes, clenched shut in misery in a failed attempt to hide his shame at being so weak, his nails running along the muscles of scorching fire beneath his fingers. "Shut up..." Snapping a hand out, a scrubber in hand he continued to find his flesh, scouring it until gauges of skin had peeled off, leaving ribbons of red, but still unclean flesh. _But its everything you ever wanted Piers. Did you feel your captain trembling beneath the heat of your tongue. That twisted talented tongue, milking him in only a matter of moments until he came so hard it hurt him? _"He likes me, its not weird, it shouldn't be weird. You stay out of this..." _He loves me, not you boy. Not that weak soul of yours. _"Your wrong... whatever happened, it wasn't because of you. Chris cares about me, why else would he keep me safe? Why would he have come back for a fallen soldier unless he cared? He hasn't told anyone... He cares about me." _He doesn't care. He saw those j'avo cramming themselves inside that tight ass and he wants to have a try too. _Piers could taste the metallic residue clinging to the insides of his mouth, blood threatening to bubble out of his mouth the more he spoke. The thing inside his throat was moving, slipping along the inside of his throat, rubbing along every avenue and searching for a way out. "I won't let you hurt him..." _You mean you don't want to hurt him? I am you, you stupid boy. All your wants just voiced and letting you be the whore you really are. Open the door, let Andy come in and give you that finish you always wanted._"NO!"

Salty tears welled at the corners of Piers' eyes, nudged down his cheeks by more that continued to flow openly until his eyes had become red, swollen from the raking sobs that had taken him. Weakly slapping the water off and hugging his arms around his knees, clinging them frantically to his chest, at the insistence in his mind to open the door and do exactly that. Why couldn't he control himself anymore? Piers had had such amazing control over his body all his life and now there was nothing. _Its okay Piers, we can fix this... we can. Remember, you are a soldier, you know all the sweet spots, you know how to end all this. _The young man snapped his head up, dragging himself over the lip of the tub on his knees, rumpling a bath rug out of place in the process to find himself lurched in front of the sink, red veins streaked in the milky whites of his eyes, reflected in the glass of the vanity mirror hung with gentle care over the jack and jill sinks that Chris had probably built himself. _You don't need a gun._ Taking in a shaking breath, between pursed lips, the younger man pulled crumpled legs up from beneath his body, braced on the wall as he jerked himself up off the floor, palms catching the counter top to steady himself as he observed the visage in the mirror. _You are beautiful... _"Shut up." He was smiling despite himself, the lacerations on his face almost completely healed from the attack where his skull had been ground into the cement, along with blood and vomit. His lips were cracked from never drinking enough, but every time he felt the urge to drink something he felt that mutation in his throat gobble it up like it was tormenting him, depriving him of getting sustenance simply because he'd locked himself away from letting anything more happen to him. But even though they were cracked and dry, Chris had kissed him. Chris' wonderful, domineering mouth had urged him into submission and nuzzled the heated flesh of his neck. Even dismantled and degraded, Chris gave him the attention he had always craved from his captain, teasing his skin until he'd felt that thing. _I made him want you... _"He thinks I'm a monster..." The smile faded, slim fingers wrapping carefully about the soap dish on the side of the sink, before crashing it into the mirror, watching spider cracks claim refuge across the thick panes as a deafening roar split in his head. _Go ahead take a piece, finish the job the j'avos started..._

"PIERS?!"

Andy's voice was mute in his head, gone from the world except for the pieces of oblong isosceles shards he began to pick numbingly away from the wall. Looking at his visage in the broken glass seemed almost right, cracking his once perfect features to match how mutated and ugly he felt on the inside. Skin of calloused fingertips splitting and weeping blood as they dug urgently wedging tiny bits under his nails, tearing hungrily until a large enough shard fit into his palm, drawing a long line of dark, almost black blood from his palm. There was shouting in the back recessed caverns of his mind, but ignored it, reaching reluctantly to his mouth. _No, no Piers, slash your throat, your wrists. You know, those gentle places that want for tearing open._ "Fuck you." Reluctant, prying fingers slipped inside his mouth, iron clinging to them from the splinted of reflective planes, running his middle finger along the side of his cheek, eyes lolling shut to drown out everything but the unconscious urgings to bring that thing inside him out. He couldn't control it, not himself, but he did learn to understand what it wanted. _You can't do this Piers..._ His own fingers brushed against gently, urging the mutation in his throat to stir, the tightness it caused restricting his breathes as he squeezed shut his eyes to avoid seeing. Lips curled into a slight smile when he felt the delicate heat, ridges kissing his fingertips, wrapping around them almost delicately and sucking urgently at drops of blood that welled beneath the nails. Thundering heart beats were causing the blood in his hand to pump out through the wound, but forced away the anxiousness that bickered in his chest, feeling loving, doting tugs and pulls that warranted attention, teasing the heat to follow as he withdrew his digits carefully, pulling the uncoiling creation along behind him, as it wrapped carefully around his forefinger as well. He was attempting not to gag from having his air cut back, wrapping his fist ever carefully about it, slick and moist in his hand. _You love me too Piers, you can't hurt me._

"Piers! Dammit open this door now or I'll fucking break it!" Andy must have woken Chris when he refused to answer, the bellowing rocking the wood while Chris shoved his weight into the door even as he spoke. Chris had made this bathroom, the door itself would hold up against his weight for a few seconds more. Tugging, he could feel the way it was embedded inside him, all the way down to the bottom of his esophagus and threatening pain the moment his arm reflexively tightened. The hinges creaked against Chris' bodily thrusts, breaking the oak easily after a short number of attempts, snapping it like a portal into hell. Eyes fell immediately to the glass in Piers' grasping hand, hazel oculars meeting horrified brown before tearing up as the glass, unparallelled in speed, slashed ferociously, biting into and severing ashen silky muscle that writhed against the ground, Piers' ear splitting screech piercing all within the confines of the tiny room, accented by that of whatever had been inside his body. Dropping that shattered shard of the blood stained glass as Chris caught him mid-fall. "Piers what did you do!? Shit!" Blood was pouring from Piers battered mouth, coughing mercilessly while bubbles of blood and foam accumulated at the corners of his lips. "Andy get towels from the closet now." Chris winced, watching as those eyes searched him before had squeezed shut, choking to get breath into his lungs, straining to expand passed sputtering out blood globs of black and something passed his lips coiling in agony in his mouth, pulling its twin back through the muscles in his throat. "You stupid kid, what did you hope to achieve doing that huh? Why the hell are you so damn stupid!?" Chris was in hysterics, tipping Piers head so the blood would run out of his mouth, and not asphyxiate his partner, over Chris' thick muscled thighs, seeping into the denim fabric. "Andy leave the towels and go, get the hell outta here! Tell anyone Piers just tried to cut out his tongue and I swear I'll kill you." He wasn't about to let the other man know what was happening, sliding his other leg over the piece of gray mutation, brimstone red streaks matching the mock scaring of Piers throat, that had fallen to the floor. He waited for the other man to leave, listening for the sound of doors trembling shut before leaning down, pressing his lips to Piers' cheek. "Piers open your mouth."

Heavy bags were clinging under his partner's eyes, teeth clenched together tightly as he gripped silently at Chris' leg, pawing at him for reassurance or otherwise. They were rested solemnly yet still instinctively clawing on the drenched fabric under his cheek, kneading the muscle beneath them. His lips parted to attempt to speak, but his throat refused to permit it, Chris fingers immediately in his mouth despite the danger it posed himself being exposed to that much poisoned blood form his partner. He was wriggling almost under Chris' forceful touch, pinning him in that position while legs kicked against whatever they met, ignored all the same. "Fuck..." He was watching, his fingers gliding over that overbearingly heated orifice as reactively those things which plagued his partner slipped back up, cradling his probing fingers. "Stop jerking around Piers." He didn't want to be an ass, particularly with the idea of teeth snapping like a bear trap around his fingers and exposing him to this, but at least the youthful B.O.W. had enough sense not to do so, letting Chris watch the horror show, he had refused to on his own. Even almost choking his partner, he could see the second part slide up across the rough pads on his fingers, twisting like a double helix around his fingers. They were the very same deceptive coils which pulsated and milked at the cock of Chris like a mother octopus coddling it's young, effortlessly consuming the warm seed the captain had to offer with both it's tendrils which leaked heated lubricants around the tips of his fingers before he yanked them away watching as Piers' jaw snapped shut, burying his face in the crook of his thigh.

"Keep this shit up and I'm going to stick you in a padded room kid. You're going to be fine. Just let yourself heal alright?" The older man bit down on the inside of his cheek, watching that despite all the blood and what had transpired and those finger tips clawing helplessly at his legs, surged him with the overwhelming want to kiss him. They couldn't do that here, not now, not after what Piers had just tried to do. "You're too important Piers. I don't care what nightmares and hallucinations you're having, don't let any of them convince you of anything else. Alright? You are the best damn sniper in the B.S.A.A., and the best partner I've ever had. Don't pull that shit again." The blood had stopped while Chris had observed those tendrils snake from the back of velvety warmth, seeing the place where Piers had severed the one, but like a hydra and all the mutated creatures before it, had merely replaced its own parts. Pulling him up from his own lap, Chris set to carrying his partner, naked as he was and tucked him mostly unconscious back into the cool bed, leaning down, taking care not to kiss the blood on his mouth and instead pressed his lips to his sweating brow, immediately pulling away when he felt lithe hands maneuver over his waist, and shutting the door in an attempt to remove himself before something more than stupid happened. After all this he was going to need a very cold shower. Whatever those were they'd sent heat over his body he was certain his partner would have noticed nestled there between his legs. If he didn't have so much resilience this could have ended horribly different. "Damn it." He was calling Jill in the morning...

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**Had mass reviewers begging for a better look at the thing in Piers' throat, so this is the tip of the iceberg. As well as copious requests for Andy to make an appearance, so! Fun fun. Still taking suggestions, believe me they will not go unheeded.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Horribly and amazingly M!**

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Piers huffed out an aggravated snort, rolling over for the hundredth time that night, the coolness of the sheets greeting his back; staring at the ceiling, then at the mattress with the pretty black sheets that Chris had put on while he was busy scrubbing off his skin that afternoon, then back to the ceiling, to the wall, and then finally the ceiling again, swallowing back to the feeling of tightness in his neck that he still hadn't gotten use to since the the day this thing had sprouted in his throat. It hadn't been easy to accept, but Chris demanded after having tried to cut it out to leave it be and let himself grow accustomed to the things that twined in his throat until he was done healing. Pushing the blankets back he sighed, pulling himself upright on the bed and staring at the closed over door, annoyed that he was getting up yet again that night to move through the house. Chris had spent the last three nights in his own room, probably getting at least three more hours extra hours a night than the younger ace actually was getting, turning over three hundred times a night from boredom and elusive fatigue. Snorting, he gave a quick rub the bags that had been increasingly heavy under his eyes before throwing his legs over the side of the bed, stepping light footed through the room and into the short hallway to the bathroom, staring at his injuries in the long mostly shattered mirror yet again that night. He didn't get tired of looking at himself in the mirror, examining the progression of his healing wounds.

The voices had stopped ever since he tried slicing out the thing in his throat that Chris was now referring to as, twin tongues, but Piers wasn't entirely certain they would stay gone. He also hadn't approved of giving them a nickname ever since he'd stuck his fingers in Piers' mouth so he could watch them trying lap at his fingers. It was hard enough holding still the time he'd forced him to in the bathroom so he could check for injuries, but he had a habit of checking them in increasing intervals, reasoning that he needed to be sure the mutation hadn't changed since then. Eating handfuls of Asprin in an effort to keep the headaches at bay, was also a new trick he'd learned, since for whatever reason Asprin seemed to be the only thing it let him have without needing to wretch it back up, and in all honestly he was starting to feel better. Staring in the mirror he could see the damage on his body finally without instantly feeling reviled. His shoulder stitching was looking good and the bruises were completely reduced back to his normal olive skin tone, all except that happy place on his hip where Chris had suckled at until it was purple that one night, until he dragged Piers completely out of slumber and almost wound up... The younger man sighed, shaking his head to knock loose the image while examining himself in the low lights, one hand pushing through his hair while the other tugged down the almost permanent sweat pants that hugged those slender hips before dropping them down, staring at the place in his thigh where claws had torn open and left a gash in his once completely smooth thighs. His weight was popped to one side, looking at himself with his hip jut out. He was almost beautiful standing there in the moon light in the bathroom, staring at a broken mirror with nothing on. The stitches on his thigh were gone, and a scar was going to be apparent, it was dark, but it would fade. He was almost completely out of this, and in all honesty it was nice to look at himself and see something other than a mess of marks given as presents from those fucked up Umbrella bastards.

Smirking, he was content. happily tipped his head to look over the rest of himself and the fading marks. His shoulder was still a mess of bandages, but that was the only part of him that wasn't healed completely. That and the internal injuries that caused him daily pain, but he preferred not to think about them. He was healing faster with each day. The internal injuries were his own fault, he knew the voices were right about that one. He'd been the one to cut that thing's cock off, even if he hadn't known that it would cause it to mutate into something much worse and damage him passed all healing. Turning, he looked over the gouges in his back, raising a brow at his physique. He'd lost some weight over the last few weeks but he didn't look bad. Resolution built him up and finally Piers replaced the sweatpants, turning on his heel and skipping his own room and stopping at the end of the hall, swallowing before pushing Chris' door open. Sure it was the middle of the night, but that was no reason he couldn't go talk to Chris. He wanted back in the field, and now that he was getting better there was no reason he shouldn't be able to. Chris never closed the door all the way anyway, just in case Piers started screaming, that way he could bolt if he needed to. He wasn't sleeping though, that much was evident; deep his broad pectorals rising and expanding so wide that Piers couldn't help but bite his lip, watching the older man's closed eyes squeeze shut as he growled out a breathy moan. He should have given the man his privacy, but Chris was an Adonis and he couldn't help but watch. His grey boxers were across the room, his trigger hand squeezing tightly along his cock, brushing his thumb roughly over the tip before dragging his hand back down. Chris' hands were big, but seeing them in comparison to his cock made Piers painfully aware of why he'd gagged when Chris was face fucking him at the range. He evidently hadn't noticed his partner watching from the doorway, his gravelly moans quiet, the other spare hand rested on his thick muscled thigh. Watching a minute longer from across the room, Piers couldn't help but admire that battle hardened body and the way his breathing was becoming erratic while his rhythm increased, fighting to keep his voice low, probably not to wake p his partner who should have been sleeping in the other room. Chris had never came across as the silk sheets kind of guy, but Piers smiled despite himself, making note of the way the top sheet had already slid almost completely off the bed, leaving Chris bare to him.

"That was in my mouth, huh?"

Tenor was laced with lust but it still had Chris jump nearly out of his skin before older man laughed against the stillness of the room, fighting the growl in his chest before pulling the disregarded sheet over his waist. "Yeah, that was in your mouth." Chris was furious, but tried to hide it, the resentment and sarcasm in his voice when he spoke, rolling his eyes. He might have stayed pissed off but he once he looked up it became blatantly obvious that Piers hadn't just walked in on him; his hip was popped and he was leaned rather comfortably there, those work out pants not even bothering to hug his slender hips anymore, just sliding down to the point where the only thing holding them up was the fact that Piers' stood with one hip jutted out. He considered fighting the response to tell him to fuck off, but his eyes had pooled at that mouth that Piers couldn't help bringing attention to by darting his wet tongue over his chapped lips, curling them into a partial smile at the corners. Good god those lips were perfect and the way they had so eagerly wrapped themselves around his cock and nearly devoured him before made his cock kick, absentmindedly letting those rough fingers give himself another jerk watching the kid stare at him. After Piers had neglected to say anything further he realized the younger man had no intentions of letting this go, watching those hzel, almost golden orbs rest on tent in Chris' sheets. In the dark Chris' eyesight wasn't the best, but he could still see relatively well, taking in all of Piers' skin that was showing, enjoying the roll of the younger man's hips when he shifted under the lust filled stares. That flesh was always tan, almost olive and the captain loved it. His muscle tone was amazing considering his age, but it was evident that Piers was enjoying the way Chris was looking at him a bit more than he'd expected, just from the way he kept moving, so that the sweat pants inhibiting the view, wouldn't show to obviously just how much he was enjoying this. "Surprised you could take all this?" He was praying to God that his cocky demeanor didn't scare Piers like a squirrel, but the kid had walked in on him jerking off, just watching while his fist gave himself another slow yank. He just wanted him to get in the bed so he could tear away those pants covering him and have round two, only this time it wouldn't be those bow shaped lips.

"I've taken worse." _And you loved it._ Shut up..., not now. Apprehension tried to claw and climb into his chest but Piers passed it off when he watched Chris snarl at the comment like a challenge, throwing back the sheet, nodding demandingly to his erection in desperate want of attention; spurring the younger man to cross the room in two easy steps. His thoughts about the field were gone, just this. Hooking his thumb under the hem of the elastic waist band of those pants and letting them drop at the end of the bed, Chris swallowed back the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth as he eyed him hungrily taking in the sight of his partner naked at the base of the bed. He mounted it on his own accord, climbing up over his captain on all fours, his eyes stopping on the thick meat in Chris' hand and hedging against the thought of putting that back in his mouth before Chris' free hand that had been rested so poised on his thick muscled thigh, snapped out like a viper and caught the back of Piers' scalp, not letting him have the time to think about it and instead pushing his face against the head of his cock, drawing a line across those pretty pouted lips and nudging the tip between his lips.

"Open." The command was all it took, feeling the tightness in his throat shifting the moment his lips parted and nuzzled the hot flesh against his cheek, the rest of his thoughts escaping from him out the window as Chris plunged himself deep into his mouth and to the back of his throat with a slurp, no fear or concern prohibiting him at the thought of how this young man was a bio weapon in all honesty. The pheromones in Piers body took hold of both of them long ago, the second Chris had taken hold of him stopping all rational thoughts. Reverberating humming over the thick length of cock, had urged the tendrils in his throat to slip up together, twisting around Chris' cock and coiling agonizingly tight. "Suck pretty boy." He wasn't sure where the dirty talk came from, he had never been one for it before in all his years in the military and otherwise; he liked Piers too much to make him uncomfortable but the way he complied, made Chris' thick cock weep pre-cum with how eager he was to please, the salty drops promptly stolen and lapped up by those tendrils, encompassing their heat everywhere around him while Piers' suckled loudly on him. At this rate he'd let him suck him off again, just listening to Piers' gag over the size of him as those twining tentacles of heat urged him back down his throat over and over, lithe smaller hands gripping Chris' hips and clutching them until his nails were biting into the flesh. Chris didn't appear to care, just continued to shove himself as deep has he could into that warm wetness as he was allowed, feeling the the tightening of his throat as the man in his lap fought to swallow or breath; the constricting of the heat every time Piers would swallow driving him over the edge, bucking his hips up every time those velvet tongues gripped and urged at him, massaging every motion out of him, to praise every time he'd bury himself to the base in Piers' mouth. Finally Chris got the over powering compulsion to see it, drawing those lips back despite the way those tendrils in his throat tried to encourage him back; pulling his glistening cock out of Pier's mouth as the younger man gasped for air, face flush, the moment his throat free of that impossibly thick girth. The two tendrils were still wrapped and milking Chris fiercely to come back to his mouth, his lips hovering over Chris' tip, pushed apart every time those greyish colored tendrils would nudge passed his lips for more attention. "Fuck that's hot." He didn't even know why that was hot, but Piers had to have some control over that thing which meant he was literally gagging for it. Whatever the case was, _he_ was egging for it, his cock was literally leaking and every time he thought he was going to pull him up, he watched those tongues encircle him and enthusiastically lap away every last drop of salty thick fluid.

Piers face was flush, his cheeks bright red as his entire body blushed while attention was completely on him, his eyes squeezed shut so that he wouldn't burn up from embarrassment, darting his own tongue out and running it over the slit in his cock, suckling loudly. Chris yanked him up from his cock almost instantly grimacing at the pleasure of it, promptly fastening to those swollen lips; cramming his tongue into that panting beaten mouth, flicking it over the tentacles while they fought for dominance. God how was Piers even breathing with all that in his mouth? Who cared, he smirked, feeling one push into his own mouth, sucking on it roughly, the moan it caused ripping through Piers chest amazing, that entire body bucked against Chris' hips, his erection weeping from the single action. "Holy shit," Chris mumbled against the intruding second tongue in his mouth, feeling them dance together to the back of his throat, sucking on them both until Piers was squirming and whimpering in tense twitching arms, grinding their hips together successively so that their erections brushed, feeling how close his partner was. It sent a tremor through the captain who had gripped those round cheeks in his hands and bucked up against him, letting Piers practically fuck his mouth. Fused together with those tentacles sliding like velvet in his mouth, while they ground their hips together furiously, squeezing that amazing ass of his and pulling them together until he couldn't breath, the intruding things in his mouth slide down Chris' throat, he was forced to shove the younger man back to get oxygen into his lungs. He had intended on saying something, but didn't have time while the younger man arched his back and sat up in his lap, throwing his head back as he rolled his hips, Chris' cock nestled between those cheeks he was holding, enough to cause Chris to let loose a growl in his throat deep and gravelly, digging his fingers into his flesh as Piers continued to ride him, slim calloused fingers finding his own hair as an unabashed moan fell from between those parted lips. Fuck, Piers had been a virgin when Chris had found him beat and mutilated on the ground, bleeding from every orifice, when did he have time to learn how to rock his hips like a pro? "Sit up." Piers ignored him, one hand finding its way from his own hair, down his taut chest and abdomen, wrapping teasingly around his own leaking cock, rolling his hips again with ease as he started pumping his hand. "Sit forward, now." Chris all but yanked him forward at the sight before him, freeing one hand from Piers' ass to grip the base of his own girth, guiding his cock against the ring of tight muscle meeting resistance there that he hadn't expected considering the state of his partner and the noises he was making. Frustrated at the pretty little whimpers coming from that mouth whilst jerking himself between them, Chris glowered, ignoring sense and shoving himself into the smaller man who had been so fervently riding that cock earlier.

There was a hiss from Chris' lips, pleasure rupturing behind his eyes, but covered by the sound of a hoarse scream. "You started this." Chris' snarled out, bucking his hips into that intensely tight passage of muscle that made him almost blind. Piers' had all but torn the skin off those large taut pecs, tearing his nails down him while Chris fucked him without anything but sweat and pre-cum, tears leaking from his eyes when he felt blood join the mix. Chris was lost in it, shoving every thick inch into Piers as deep as he could while he writhed on top of him, completely unable to pull away from the grip he'd retained on the slim hips. He could feel the swell of his cock every time it pushed inside, every injury he'd received before that, almost healed or not tearing open from the force of being taken almost completely dry. Sweat was trapped under Piers' nails as he dragged them over Chris' chest, crying out as the older man finally pulled out of him completely, collapsing on the open mattress beneath him before realizing at all that Chris had moved until the weight shifted the mattress behind him, guiding that thick cock back along torn and abused muscle, circling the ring with his bulbous head. He was staring at the blood, and the way it played across his pulsating cock while Piers was whimpering underneath him, eyes squeezed shut and mumbling under his breath, before shoving himself back inside, penetrating that ring over and over until he was literally fucking Piers into the mattress. He felt himself throbbing as the body under him jerked back against him, smirking despite himself and seeking out the lithe neck that had Piers' screams trapped inside, closing his rough fingers around it until he could hardly breath. He would have stopped earlier, but all that teasing he was doing had him tripping for orgasm, thrusting until there was rivulets of sweat on his back, listening to nothing but the sound of slapping flesh and choked hitch moans underneath the crushing weight of his hand. Piers was whimpering, but by the time Chris had found an erratic steady rhythm it was evidently wanton, his hands wound up in the sheets and liberally gasping aloud. "You like it rough huh... after all that I should have known." Chris chuckled, feeling the muscles around him contract when he squeezed Piers neck harder, feeling the tightness as the things inside his throat struggled beneath his skin, wrapping his other hand around and relenting the pace to find Piers' cock with his own hand pumping it until he felt every muscle in his body tighten around his own length, spilling onto the sheets beneath him. Gasping wouldn't have described the noises Piers made while riding out his orgasm. It was all Chris needed to feel, pulling out before shoving tip to base and locking their hips together, the hand that had been on his neck releasing to grant him leverage as the other continued to work Piers til he'd given everything he had, spilling his own thick ropes of semen deep inside him. "Fuck..!"

Piers was exhausted, panting on the bed while Chris' rocked his hips against him, still hard despite having gotten off, and nudging that place that made Piers' breath hitch, pulling out of him in one easy move. Gulping in the breathessly, he leaned forward, placing a kiss on Piers' back looking at the blood and cum that had seeped down between his thighs, sweeping his fingers through it before letting him go, rolling the younger man over despite what was on the bed so that he was staring up at Chris, face stained with tears but a look that said anything but shame. Chris shook his head, almost gently, leaning forward and kissing Piers' lips that pulled shut quickly, brushing the tears off his cheeks with a rough digit. "Didn't mean to hurt you but geez, you have any idea what you were doing to me?" He smiled against his lips, feeling the rising and fall of Piers chest slow considerably, hazel eyes finally drawing open to stare into Chris' almost ink black oculars. "Move your legs." He helped despite the demand, nudging them apart so that he could rest between his thighs, drawing circles in the sweat on his stomach, keeping watch of the mixture of fluids on his fingers. After the last few weeks of wanting nothing but that, he was still hard as a rock, and Piers evidently hadn't been too horrified by the pain Chris caused him because his own erection twitched every time Chris let his hand dip passed his naval. He'd never expected Piers to enjoy being choked, but who knew what it felt like with that thing in his throat, and honestly it wasn't a surprising side effect after being raped, to like the pain of being taken that hard. Shaking his head, he refused to continue thinking about it, using the hand that still had blood and semen on it to slip between their bodies and find that abused ring of flesh, shoving his index and middle finger inside him with ease, immediately seeking and stretching the already used ring until Piers arched up against him, teasing that sweet bundle of nerves inside him and rewarded with all the more pretty urging noises. Stretching his fingers again before nudging and teasing the sensitive area until Chris removed his fingers balefully. "You do it." It was all he said before locking lips with the forlorn man under him, taking him by the wrist hand, guiding it to where Piers could feel the blood, pushing Piers to put his own slim fingers inside him, thrusting in while Chris immediately went to finding what he wanted and sucking on the tentacle that tried invading his mouth, knowing the reaction it would have when Piers almost shouted passed lips and Chris' suckling, his own fingers pushing inside him and finding that place, embarrassment washing over him. Chris chuckled, nuzzling Piers' flushed cheeks , feeling the the sticky fluid between them. "I'm going to love making you cum all night."

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***Wibbles* My knees are weak after writing that...**

**As for the requests? It wasssss, Piers liking being choked, Chris loosing his inhibitions (bound to happen anyway considering the pheromones but yay for rough sex!), and seeing his mutation in action... so! Any other requests to be made should be made now because I'm back on a roll of writing.  
**


	9. Chapter 9

Chris hadn't slept all night. Piers was crashed on the bed, face down in the pillows splayed out while Chris ran his fingers along his spine up and down, watching the goosebumps raise under his rough calloused palms. It was already getting light out, the sun leaking over the bottom hem of the blinds, but he'd yanked the curtains shut so the bright arrows of light couldn't stab them to alertness. He wasn't done admiring the younger man. Not in the least, listening to his breathing and groans whenever he shifted on the sheets they had all but dismantled. A soft hum escaped beaten lips, making Chris chuckle as his hand dipped lower and cupped one of the soft globes of skin. He was a sweet kid, it sounded weird to think it, but it was true. Piers was beaten, broken, battered, mentally and physically worn out, but he was sweet. Always those looks in his eyes that said none of this was about fucking. Though there was no ignoring the fact that sex with Piers was everything he'd ever thought it would have been and so much more. Chris liked Piers, everything about him, the pheromones that seeped from him merely gave his body leave to ignore his mind's protests about this being wrong, and instead just act on his wants to bend him at the waist and completely wreck him. It was wrong, he wasn't helping Piers get better by sleeping with him, and it wasn't helping to know he couldn't put him back in the field until this mutation was taken care of, but this did help Piers to know he wasn't alone. He knew that was why he'd come to him last night, he was honestly getting better physically and from the strength he spent that night warring with Chris for the dominate position, he was very clear he wasn't as weak as he'd once imagined. He thought them being together would have been so much more like being with a woman, but Piers was definitely a guy, there was no fighting that, one that liked controlling the situation as much as Chris did, so it was exhilarating getting to find all those quirks that worked him into submission. So yes it was just sex, because he couldn't let him go into the field, but the sex was more about a reminder that so long as Piers wasn't clear, Chris wouldn't leave him. Chris wouldn't leave him to deal with this alone, he wasn't someone to be feared, just that they had to be careful around him for a little bit longer. He smirked at the marks he'd left all over his thighs, enjoying how the younger man kept shifting against the cool rumple of sheets every time Chris would trace them on his legs where his thumbs had dug in so hard there were prints. Anyone looking at him might thought he'd spent his night again with a j'avo, even Chris was a bit concerned about how much of a beating he'd taken, but those marks were made because he knew Piers, and because he urged him. Not because he took him unwillingly. His partner was a soldier, he didn't do anything kindly, even when they were together it was all hands on, and Chris wouldn't have had it another way. Shoving, commanding, and dragging each other around until they found what worked and then worked each other until breaking.

Raising a brow, he couldn't help but let an idea play through his head, enjoying the moment of solitude maybe more than he should have. Piers' gasps were musical, and he didn't like the quiet, just that he knew it was a prelude to those pretty little noises he made. After spending a night having Piers remind him he wasn't a girl, Chris had spent a long time experimenting on his sleeping form between lulls. He liked proving his partner wrong and making his whimper. Searching for ways to prove his dominance in bed. Slipping down the mattress, his larger hands nudged slimmer legs apart, the sleeping man completely compliant as he rubbed the cool flesh under his hands, biting the skin above his hips, not hard but enough to make Piers moan a sleepy approval before using his hands to part those beautiful cheeks he'd abused all night long. Running his tongue between them until he found that ring of muscle, he heard Piers jerked into consciousness, Chris yanking him up until he was on his forearms with his ass up for Chris to lavish with his tongue. He didn't care about the fluids that were still on him, he'd cleaned him up sufficiently before this and in actuality Chris never even cared about the blood, he should have. Piers was infected, you can't can't ingest infected blood without repercussions, the younger man moaning under his ministrations made that clear, but he simply didn't care. He liked bringing him pleasure over and over until his legs were too weak and then taking him again. He enjoyed the taste more than he should have, rimming Piers' over again, pushing his tongue just passed the ring of muscle and back out again, curling his tongue in his mouth while taking a second to admire the instant whine of Chris' retreat. Calloused fingers gave a squeeze before he changed his hold on him, sliding one hand further in to dip his index finger inside his mouth quickly before pushing it inside his partner to the first knuckle, followed again by his tongue coating that ring of muscle with saliva until he pushed it in as far as he could manage, loving the way Piers was gasping and pushing back toward him. Pulling back just the slightest made the younger man rocked back with him, Chris smiling as he slipped in a second finger using them to stretch him while he pressed his tongue inside and twisting his fingers and spreading again. The younger man was whimpering silently, pushing back against Chris every time his fingers would thrust just a little further, using them to give him better access for his tongue. "Cap... captain, the...," he was rolling his eyes up into his head and letting himself succumb to the feeling of Chris' moist tongue sweeping over the outside of him before stealing away back inside tasting the hot tight flesh. "Blood captain." He moaned out the last of it, letting Chris pull back and kiss his round cheeks.

"I cleaned the blood an hour ago after you fell asleep Piers." He laughed at the visible sigh, aroused by the sight of his partner finally acting the roll, spitting into his hand before wrapping it around and gripping Piers' erection, working his hand over it while he removed his fingers from his stretched orifice, so he could pull him to his knees. "Spread yourself." There was a small whine, but line sniper's hands found their way back, spreading his cheeks for Chris so that he could have access to him, white enamel biting him once more before dipping his tongue from the top of his crack down until he met that sweet puckered ring, invading it and swirling his tongue once around inside him, savoring each taste and gasp that was getting muffled by pillows. There was a whimper akin to begging that made Chris' cock give a kick before sitting up behind him, gripping his own arousal already ready from the unabashed cries that Piers made every time he squeeze his weeping cock. "Who would have thought my partner liked getting eaten out hm?" Everything he said went straight to Piers' groin, Chris could feel it every time he throbbed in his hand before pushing forward until just the tip of him penetrated inside the younger man, hearing the hiss out from between pouted lips as the muscle he'd worked so hard all night relented to his girth. "Don't worry love, I'll take care of you. I could do this to you forever."

After having spent the entire night together, Chris quickly learned that no matter how close he got his partner it didn't matter unless he was just about asphyxiated. He'd worked him until crying at one point and it didn't matter unless Chris' hand was clenching his windpipe to choking him. Reaching to the side of the bed as he pushed in achingly slow, snatching up his dark blue cotton t-shirt he'd worn the day before. Releasing the younger man's cock he smiled at the instant whimper, tearing the shirt into a strip leaning forward just a bit reaching before Piers shoved back impatiently, sheathing Chris's entire length inside him. He growled deep in his chest, grimacing with the pleasure as Piers sank against him moaning out the captain's name, as Chris looped the fabric around the bruised and abused flesh of his throat and twisted it in his grasp, yanking back until he heard an almost gargle in the back of Piers throat. It was impressive how well Piers could literally fuck himself on Chris as they began to thrust his hips quicker while tugging back harder on the shirt like a choke chain, stifling Piers' moan into nothingness, which shifted into a strangled hiss that wasn't entirely his partner's. He'd learned the second time they'd done it that the mutation he had deep in the pits of his throat screeched when he squeezed too tight, so there was that sweet middle ground where Piers' could barely speak, only writhe and moan beneath him as he picked up his rhythm to get deeper inside that warm canal and into his bowel, using the strip of fabric as leverage as his body began to sweat with the effort of keeping himself from letting loose and just jamming their hips together and tearing him in two, pushing with his other palm into the small of his back, twisting the collar of shirt again until Piers groan strained out letting the navy material turning his head and moaning out a distressed plea that made Chris tip his head back and give caution to the wind. Hearing Piers beg him to fuck him harder was a godsend, the sound of flesh slapping together while fucking his partner into the mattress tip to root over and over again getting as deep into him as he could until he lost rhythm and buried himself inside him shallower and as deep as he could manage until he spent himself again, collapsing over his back with an animalistic growl, nipping the back of Sweat covered shoulder blades while he rocked their hips together, listening to Piers' whimpers until he pulled out, rolling him over. He wasn't selfish, he wouldn't leave him gasping for air and straining against nothingness hoping for release, and instead surprised the younger man by handing him the trailing end of fabric to keep taut before dipping down between his legs and putting his mouth over him.

It was the strangest feeling, not being at all concerned about his inexperience where he had been stumbling before tonight. Instead he just put his hand around the base of the younger soldier and felt him tense as he took the head of his weeping cock in his mouth, sucking the warm flesh between his lips. Chris' noted the considerable difference in the two of them, feeling Piers' back arch off the bed when he flicked his tongue just right until he heard the sound of his breaths getting cut off by the fabric, pumping his hand over him and sucking until he felt salt threaten his tongue, tilting his head back and off him, continuing to jerk him off while Piers tripped over insanity and finally released the hold on the shirt, gasping for air, while Chris swiped the rest of the shirt up and wiping away the fluids gently between his cheeks. By the time he finished he was up beside the young ace, shocked to find him staring exhausted and pink cheeked at him almost incredulously, before closing his pouted lips and taking in another deep breath, Chris finally relenting and canting his head to the side, pulling Piers' body against him. "What?"

"You fucked my mouth twice last night Chris... and you can't hold out half a minute more?" He chuckled, rolling into Chris' arms, ignoring the quick explanation about the taste of semen being too salty even though he'd never actually had the luxury of tasting it.

"You liked it though didn't you?" Chris had a smirk thinking about it, enjoying the hum that emit from his throat in response. He liked that he could take Piers in every which way and every time it was different and exciting. He liked things Chris would never, but he hadn't expected him for some reason to enjoy the things he did. Giving him a mutual blow job hadn't even occurred to him until he had recognized how much Piers liked his tongue inside him, but it shouldn't have surprised him the way those things inside his mouth adamantly enjoyed being sucked on. He liked that he could please him so much. "I don't need to taste you to get you off Piers. That's your job." It occurred to him maybe Piers would want to try reversing the rolls, considering how this was the first time Piers hadn't fought him on the position, but that would be on the list of things he just wouldn't do. That including letting Piers cum in his mouth. At least, that was until he felt the quick reach down and up again, swiping his fingers through Chris' open mouth before he could protest, Piers never opening his eyes while Chris sputtered, swears at him. Annoyed until the little soft chuckle reached his ears, smiling despite himself and letting the flavor linger. "I'm taking you to see a doctor tomorrow, about your shoulder and the other stuff. Get you signed off so we can start worrying about getting you back in the field okay?" He felt Piers giddy little almost wiggle, and a hum letting him drift off again into sleep. He was so tired he probably hadn't even heard him, might not even remember this, but Chris smiled and let him go back to sleep in his arms for only a while before getting up to shower.


	10. Chapter 10

**I apologize in advance for the continued darkness and angst of this particular story for those of you people that continue to read it. I don't however apologize to Chris and Piers. Because its just too much fun.**

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Chris sighed, running glove covered fingers through his hair and yanking a few strands loose as he rubbing it along the back of his scalp. The doctor making him leave had been a bad idea. This was a bad idea. Piers wasn't ready for active duty, he could barely walk this morning after the day and a half they spent lavishing on each other, and now he wanted to get cleared to return to field work. Physically, yeah he was healthy..., enough so to basically ravish him this morning in the shower. Swallowing, he tried to force the memory of the warm water and cool tiles on his back, all encompassed by his partner's exceedingly warm 'tongues,' followed by a facial he wouldn't be able to scrub clean for a week. One of the nurses turned their peachy little faces toward Chris' pacing form, hoping to ignore her and that she wouldn't press him, except she was a lack wit and did so anyway. That polite squeak of a 'may I help you.' No she couldn't help him. What did she want to help with, his obsession with his team mate or his rising issue with the fact that he still didn't know what to do about the mutation in Piers' throat. He'd already put it off limits for the doctor. Demand that his captain's status gave him the rank to pull over her head in case he needed to in this case. They couldn't have some civilian looking down his throat no matter the insistence. Didn't help he had been shoved out of the exam room when they asked Piers to take his shirt off. How exactly were they going to explain all the new bruises and ligature marks on his neck? The arms, shoulders, his thighs and hips? On top of that anyone that close to Piers for an extended period of time would definitely feel the effects. No one else was allowed to feel the pheromones, to feel the want for Piers that Chris had. No... Stop pacing. The captain halted his steps, staring at the ground when another concerned nurse brought him of tea. Who the fuck drinks tea anyway? Swallowing a swig of it with a sneer, he gave her a 'thankful' smile and gave her a short lived, wordless 'cheers' before beginning his pace again. Chris looked like a lion, his shoulders hunched and huge muscular frame encompassing the free space of the hall that wasn't taken up by monitors, his boot falls and rubber soles thumping heavily with each pace. "How long does an exam usually ta-

"Captain you're wearing a hole in the floor." Tenor amusement drifted to his ears, the doctor settling up beside them when Chris spun on a heel. "She needs to talk to you. Shoulder stitching, the broken bones, thigh... you know everything." He smirked watching the way Chris was fumbling for what to say. Chris never fumbled but he was obviously at a loss considering all the damage his frame suffered over the duration of the last month, and the fact the woman didn't appear to be horrified with the fact that Piers was covered in the tell tale marks of rough sexual encounters. "She's got some things for you to sign captain... contractual obligations and stuff." The woman forced back a smile, handing him the file work for him to look over before taking up where Piers left off.

"Just a minute alone with your captain please, alright Mr. Nivans?" Piers gave her a shrug, turning on a heel with cat like reflexes, stepping out to the waiting area to continue Chris' pacing. Instantly the tone changed, all sweet with Piers, but with Chris the tern 'all knowing' tone seeped in, all seriousness coming to narrowed asian features that seemed to hold Chris in regard. "Mr. Nivans' broken bones are all well enough for him to be considered for active duty. His collar bone surprisingly so considering the twisted state his records stated. The ribs are good too, a little bit deviated from where we set them but nothing he can't handle." She watched as Chris continued to flip through the pages looking for something frantically in the pages for the words 'not suited for active duty,' or 'suggested medical leave.' He hadn't expected her to sign off, obviously he wasn't expecting any of this just by the state of his usual rock solid nerves escaping him, leaving his hands to shake. He'd expected her to do the opposite and completely destroy his career and everything else she could. He'd brought Piers in, in just about worse shape than when she received him. And it was evident she was holding back on scolding him over the repeated bruising on his thighs and neck. So how was he going to tell Piers he hadn't expected her to sign off, that he was going to use this as an excuse to get him to relax about rejoining the unit. Alpha team needed Piers no doubt about that, but there was no way he could take him yet. It wasn't until she'd stopped talking for some time that Chris realized she wasn't saying something, and he knew immediately what it was. Pages flipped shut, clutched beneath tricep and pectoral while he waited for something more. The something that would probably break Piers. Her lips quivered a little under Chris' exacting gaze, a large exhale following as he made note of why she was allowing silence to fill the area. She wasn't signing off. "Has agent Nivans... said anything about seeing hallucinations?"

There it was... He'd been extremely aware of the hallucinations that Piers had been talking to, seeing ever since the incident, and after nearly tearing his own throat out, it shouldn't have surprised him that they were obvious enough to others, but somehow it did. Had he really admitted to them to the doctor? Knowing his second-in-command there was no way he willingly opened up about having visions of j'avos staring at him and taunting him. He wanted back into the field, so what had she seen that made it so plainly obvious that the younger man was digressing. So how do you answer? Yes, and then she has to mark it as a known lapse in judgement on Piers' part, or no, and mark it as mental illness. Maybe Chris had thought he was that great that he could cure post-tramatic stress disorder just by relieving some of his own when they were enveloped in each other's bodies, but there was no way she wasn't going to report this. Still, seeing him staring at himself in the solitude of the washroom, looking at the broken mirror and quietly crying to himself when he thought Chris wasn't looking... Chris knew everything was not alright that morning. He'd tried everything to tell Piers they'd reschedule, everything but tell him that he knew what was wrong. Why couldn't things just be better for them, and his partner be back to normal. Because he got fucked in the head when he got fucked up the ass that's why... "Yeah, I was aware. But you are just here to decide if he's physically fit, not mentally, right?" He couldn't let him in the field knowing he was still seeing things, but at least he could stop her from reporting it. "I've got to clear him with a psych before I let him back in. So yeah I knew." Massive arms tucked across Chris' wide expanse of a chest, intimidating her, and he knew it. "So why does it concern you?"

"He was talking to someone that wasn't me, that's why. I asked him a few times about it and he acted as though nothing happened so I had to assume he wasn't telling you. Has he talked about the incident at all? About what happened to him? Because I attempted to approach the subject and he instantly reminded me it was above my pay grade." Chris nodded sarcastically, hearing her say that. Sounded like Piers. He didn't play nice with others. "I'm sure it is, since you boys don't go over people's heads unless its completely necessary, but I'm just putting it out there. He may not be alright until you get him to open up about what happened. Seeing it and talking about it are different levels of acceptance sir. Other than that, after my evaluation... Let himself heal up a bit more, just for safety's sake and he'll be clear for active duty _physically_ in no time at all. That is..., as long as _whoever_ it is that he's been intimate with makes sure they are careful. I never cleared him for that kind of... activity and I wouldn't have until he sees a psychologist." She tried not to look so completely pissed at the captain, patting Chris on the shoulder and handing him a BIC, ignoring his snarl. He scrawled his name out, staring at each letter before relenting the clipboard. The boys up top would never let Piers back in the field without first checking that his mental state was clear and Chris wouldn't put him in front of the board until he was clear of the hallucinations too. It took everything in his black book of favors just to get Piers' physically signed off. No blood samples, no tests, and no throat examine. Yeah, they were lucky enough as it was. Now it was just a matter of... what, visions of dying? Perfect. "I know a few people he could talk to, but I suggest you get him to talk about it with you first. You are his commanding officer, if anyone, he should be able to discuss it with you."

She started walking them toward the waiting area soon enough, one foot after another like a death sentence. He'd just gotten some kind of foothold into Piers' life, he didn't want to ruin it all by bringing up what happened. And yet there really wasn't another way, not if his sniper was going to continue to insist on rejoining the unit before he was clear. He was a captain in the S.O.U., no matter how much he liked the younger ace, he couldn't justify bringing him back, even with a cleared psych eval. There was still the matter of him being infected. But how could he tell Piers that? He wasn't suppose to pass even this exam, how had he healed so well? A smile formed at the corners of those full pouted lips seeing his captain and the 'good' doctor rejoining him, Chris clasping a hand with her, as the woman pat his shoulder again, walking away with a disheartened smile that made perfect brows knit together. Chris didn't say anything, just walked by as Piers fell in step with him across the hospital, over black stained concrete and the parking lot, up to the truck. "Okay what the heck did you tell her? She looked like you threatened to stab her in the eye with a ballpoint pen captain." Chris couldn't imagine the things she'd thought looking at the wounds and inflictions that seemed to unfold the events of the day before but he was surprised Piers had picked up on her discomfort over his. On top of everything else, she'd had to look at his thigh, she would have seen the bruised finger marks and welts that Chris had left the day wasn't naive, she evidently understood those came from Chris gripping those perfect legs for some leverage as he pounded into him. "Chris?" Piers waited a half second and shrugged, climbing the single step up, his eyes locking on the side view mirror as he slammed the door, resting his elbow out the window and his chin in hand. The life in those hazel eyes slowly drifting away before they fell to the foot wells, his smile gone and starting to shake his head before looking stoically up at Chris. "She didn't sign off,... did she?" Eyes fell, coming back to Chris' stubbled jaw, "Captain can we go?"

"Yeah Piers, we can go." Fighting was so much easier than this. Being in the field didn't require a person to nurture. And your hidden enemy could be killed, it wasn't part of you. This was hurting him so bad, but thanks to the doctor everything was going to have to change. He couldn't allow Piers to go back into the field like this, not this way, not with his head the way it was. Pulling out of the parking lot like a bat out of Hell, Chris threw the truck into gear, tearing off down the road. "Look Piers... we need to talk. About the hallucinations." His partner was back to gazing out the window, his eyes resting on nothing. It was uncommon for Piers. He was a sniper, and the most observant man he'd ever met, he knew when those sharp hazel oculars refused to find their mark it was because he was troubled... "We can't keep ignoring it Piers. I mean I've seen you talk to yourself before, the calculations you make in the field, the measurements for you rifle as you take aim at a target, the minor details of missions that you reaffirm to yourself, but you aren't in the field. You are having full out conversations with things that don't exist..."

"I don't know what you mean..."

Cocky little shit..., was he really going to do this? "Oh? Then what was that shit in the bathroom this morning? Or the other night when you damn near bit my throat out because of something you heard, that never happened? Or how about the fact that we never talk about what happened to you." Chris turned the wheel, speeding through a red light. He wasn't about to give traffic the right of way on this one, he was too stubborn. Hand over hand, rough pads directed the truck, diverting them on a different path than the one that led back to the house. He was avoiding returning home. In the car, Piers couldn't run from this conversation. "She cleared you, alright Piers? She did. But there's no way I'm letting you back into the field like this. I know I promised you I'd take care of this, get you back on alpha team, but I can't do that if you won't talk to me."

The news that he'd been cleared didn't seem to wash over Piers, glassy eyes turning watery as Chris continued to talk, his fingers digging into lean, muscled thighs, the places his captain had abused the night before. Sometimes Chris forgot how young his sniper was, just old enough to drink at this point. It shouldn't have been out of place to see salty tears threatening to spill over and onto his softer countenance. "Just sign off Chris."

"Just talk to me Piers."

"Sign off."

"TALK!"

"Sign off Captain."

"ANSWER NIVANS! That's an order!" Chris slammed on the breaks, the truck screeching to a halt with a rivaling noise of the roar that bellowed forth from Chris' rumbling chest. On the side of the road with Chris practically tearing the gravel up behind them, a cloud of brake smoke and dust kicked up around them when he threw it in park, practically snapping the shifter out of gear, while it the cloud floated in the open windows just a bit, making watery eyes more uncomfortable while dust bit tear ducts.

"I don't want to talk about it." Tenor was low and hidden, as though the softer his voice was the less likely it was to show how horase and broken it was becoming.

"Well I do."

It seemed to be the last thing, the straw that broken the camel's back, and turned Piers sadness into a shout of hatred that escaped his parted full lips, abused from chewing on them as some escape from talking. They were partly swollen but what caught Chris' attention was how pissed he looked, his calm demeanor gone in a flush that covered his whole body. "Fine! You want to talk about it captain? You want to know all the details. Is that what you want? You want to hear about how I fucked up and it cost me EVERYTHING!" Chris' eyes were locked on Piers' refusing to hedge at his outburst and instead, glowering when he threatened to stop speaking. "Fine..." His voice had dropped to something lower, eyes locking on something passed Chris and behind him until shaking his head. "Fine."

"What happened Piers?"

"I fucked up. I fell off the roof... I jumped, off the roof. I compromise my position because there were j'avo there. Heavy artillery j'avo and I had to leave my rifle and jump. Broke my ribs, collar bone, concussed. I mounted the roof again, took out the hostiles, and signaled you to keep going. Because I knew I could handle it." Piers' wasn't watching him as Chris stubbled jaw clenched, taking in a huge breath as he heard the words falling from Piers mouth. He fell... it was no wonder it had taken him longer than expected to clear the road. He didn't know how that had happened, or how the bones had broken. That was a hell of a fall to take. "Cleared the roof, cleared the street, and I followed my route. Only... only I couldn't. I was too damn weak, and couldn't breath because of my ribs so I took the secondary, and got shot. That's what happened." There was silence between them, incredulous chestnut eyes trained commandingly at his partner who was refusing to meet his, lost in the moment, or in the place. He didn't want to do this to him, but he had to. Seeing the end of something that happened and knowing the details was completely different, the doctor had been right on that count.

"Keep going."

"I was compromised and captured. That's all captain."

"Piers... that's not all that happened..." A rough hand came up to cup Piers by the chin, looking at him carefully with how he was unable to meet his captain's eyes, looking at someplace inside himself rather. "Answer soldier. What happened to you?" This was a battle, and cars were racing by passed them parked on the shoulder, honking a variety of horns, and Chris couldn't care less. There was nothing he could do for his partner without knowing what the extent of the damage was. The first doctor had warned him of the extent of his physical injuries, but Piers never explained himself, even to H.Q. because Chris had defended his position unyielding, maybe that was a mistake. "After you were shot..."

"I was captured... I don't remember losing my rifle. Not the second time. A soldier never lets go of his weapon." He was shaking his head, and Chris dropped his hand from Piers' jaw slowly, brushing hi thumb over his chin once before his hand dropped, watching him recall details as though they had just happened. It reminded him of Kijuju. He knew how hard it was because Jill made him go through this same thing... except for Chris it was the violence, and for Piers, he was... "I shouldn't have blacked out, but I did. Someone hit me with the butt of it after I passed out on the stairs," where Chris had found the trail. "I should never have let it go... I woke up in the butcher shop a few klicks away checked the perimeter, the door, listened for footsteps. There was three, I think, maybe four. I can't remember, just that when I opened the door and stabbed that bastard with his own machete it felt damn good. I passed out after that." Piers eyes finally came up, focused on Chris, and the older man shook his head, trying to be understanding though he knew that last line was bullshit. He hadn't just passed out. Chris heard the scream.

"No you didn't. I know you Piers. Why do you keep seeing things hm? I saw what was happening to you, I should have come for you sooner, but I know you know what happened. I know what you keep seeing, and I want to know why... what happened that has you so beat up huh soldier?"

"I don't want to talk about it Chris."

"Its not a request. That's an order, soldier. What did they do to y-"

"They _raped_ me! You know that. You saw it. You want me to have to say it? They raped me over and over and over, until I passed out, and when I woke up, they did it again. And everything I did, it didn't matter. They pushed inside of me so many times I couldn't even feel myself anymore, and when I couldn't they made sure to find ways that I would. That... ruka...," his voice broke suddenly, but Piers didn't, a hand snapping up to clasp around Chris' collar with enough strength to yank him across the center console without trouble, speaking only inches from his face. "And when they weren't fucking me, they were cramming their fingers and claws inside the wounds I already had. Made me swallow my own blood, my own vomit, some sick perversion while I was clawing at concrete and I couldn't breath because they shut me up by using my mouth the same way! You always told me fighting helped Chris! That fighting was suppose to be what we do! Well I fought. And you know what it got me? It got me torn to pieces by a thousand hands holding me down while some mutated prick shoved himself inside me as far as he could and made me want it. How sick is that?! After all that, after fighting your supposed good fight, I was laying on the ground fucked in my own fluids and I wanted it. You know how hard they laughed? Do you know what it feels like when your body betrays you and every part of your being in the lowest degradation, WANTS some sick mutated fuck to put his hands on you?!" Piers was crying, tears were openly falling down his face, releasing Chris' collar and grabbing for the door handle. Chris threw the car out of park instantly and into gear so he wouldn't bolt. So he couldn't. "They fucked me," hazel venomous eyes met the captain's brown, "until I practically came for them and you and my entire unit saw me like that, in a mess of my own blood and fluids! And you want to know what else?! The worst part of all this?!" Chris wasn't sure he did, but at this point there was no turning back, he'd opened this topic up, he could only listen, and wish he'd never asked. How could he have asked, how was this helping his partner? Fucking doctors! "You know what else Chris?! You fucked me. And the entire time you're choking me and holding me down, and fucking me you know what I can see? Every single little thing you do to me, all I can see and feel are those things inside me, and I get off on it. I seduced my team mate, my MARRIED team mate, sucked you off at the range, and then we fucked, over and over and all I can see is THEM! Talking to me, taunting me, cooing at me, because they know that every time you are with me I'm thinking about them! Because I'm _ruined_ Chris! They ruined me for everyone and every thing, and now they're taking the one thing I've got left!"

He was practically blue in the face screaming at Chris, olive youthful countenance screwed up in rage and hate , thing that had no right to be on those perfectly handsome features, tears staining his face before turning in his seat so that he was facing the window, smearing away the evidence with his sleeve. Swiping it several times until his normally stoic features appeared to realign back into that hidden sadness he had gotten so use to. No wonder he was crying that morning... no wonder he was always crying. Chris' chest constricted as he pulled up to the driveway, Piers' yanking open the lock before the vehicle even had time to stop and jumping out. He bolted like a rabbit, so quick o want to get away from Chris that it made his heart sink seeing him practically run as fast as possible from him. And like that he was gone again. Locked inside the darkness of 'his' room, burying himself inside the insanity of what had happened. How was Chris suppose to help him now? How could he have known this had happened? How could he have been so stupid...?

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**Wellllll that was an unexpected little announcement...**


	11. Chapter 11

Chris scowled starting at his hands. He'd been sitting here all morning with these files in his hands. On the left, a psychological evaluation sheet filled out by himself, stating that Agent Piers Nivans was no longer fit for combat and required medical attention outpatient or otherwise to tend to hallucinogenic issues, the scrawl at the bottom empty and awaiting his signature. On the other side, an entire packet of evaluations with the cover letter written in his own hand stating that his second-in-command was fit for active duty effective immediately and by his own digression had come to the conclusion to forgo all other medical procedures or treatment on his behalf and mark him as completely cleared. Neither of them were signed, but both prepared to the letter, checked over, edited to make certain all amendments were in order, and completely viable once he put his name to them. He'd been staring at these as long as Piers had stayed locked in that room. Which by Chris' watch was exactly... four days. He hadn't eaten, wouldn't drank anything, refused to spoke to Chris..., and sure as hell there was a lot of talking on his end, a thousand apologies through the door in some hope that eventually it would crack open, and he could give him something anything to make it better. There was nothing he could do to make this better though, nothing he could say or do, nothing but this anyway. He refused to break down the doors, he did that because of the doctors when confronting him on his hallucinations and look where it got him, absolutely nowhere, in fact further away than when he had originally started. Piers was broken like a porcelain doll he couldn't put together. There was nothing he could do but listen to the vicious one sided arguments; talking to himself inside that room all alone, confronting all those demons on his own torturing himself with as recreations scrapped their nails on his perfect skin, and had him all but screaming in the nights. It was his job as the partner to look out for the younger soldier, his job to make everything okay again as his lover, but as his captain? As the captain of the Alpha team it was his job to put an end to it one way or another, to not endanger them or him. Make a choice and either ruin his career and his person, or put him at risk of himself in the field. He knew which the man would rather have, if he was going to die he'd rather do it in the field with honor than getting old in some nursing home talking to visions of rapist infected, who wanted nothing more than to cause him grief. Chris wasn't sure how much more grief Piers could really take.

Sitting at his table, he could hear everything that went on in that little room. Piers did a lot of sleeping. Just... sleep, and talking to nothing, and sleeping, that was when he wasn't crying because the things in his head weren't letting him sleep, or because of the nightmares harping at him. Always fighting with himself. What killed him most was on the first day he'd been nothing but vicious, it was yelling and screaming at Chris about what a complete asshole he was for making him talk about everything. Chris could accept that. He was an asshole for ever having done it, it wasn't like he hadn't seen everything that happened. He should never have accepted that doctor's advice. He hadn't until then and they were fine up until then weren't they? The second day was harder though..., it had changed from yelling at Chris to waking up to nightmares, screaming and thrashing in the bed until his choked off scream turned into crying, the things in his throat making that choked of squeal of their's that they made when he was starting to asphyxiate. He couldn't take Piers crying. He was a grown man, and an amazing soldier..., and he had been reduced to nothing but salty tears, and when Piers cried out it made Chris feel completely useless. He wanted to touch him, brush the salty trails off his tan cheeks and kiss those swollen lips from chewing on them, like he had before all this had begun. This was far more complicated than the captain knew what to do with. He should have let Headquarters know about all this crap, he should have accepted it and not stolen him away and promised to take care of him because now whichever choice he made; Piers was on the line. Before this maybe they could have helped, but now the damage was done, turning him in to Headquarters wouldn't solve anything but to get himself some trouble with them and Piers locked up. Today..., today he would make this choice. Piers deserved that much, some kind of choice to be made on his behalf to let him rejoin his men, or to deal with this head on. He couldn't have it both ways, no matter what he wanted. Sighing, Chris glanced once at the phone as the most annoying jingle one could have inspired began its fifth circuit of ringing off the chain. Caller I.D. Jill... again. Right. Picking up the pen in his right hand, he stared at the phone, wiggling he pen like some nervous fanatic before slamming the tip down and signing ink clinging to his finger tips, throwing the pen halfway across the room before the phone was in hand.

...

"I don't know Jill, you don't understand... he's not the same as me... I was just angry you know? I mean I lost you. But Piers? He went through a lot, I don't even know the half of it, he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. I don't blame him. I pushed, I shouldn't have, I mean you pushed me, but what am I suppose to do? I damn near broke him just telling him to talk about it. He hasn't come out, even to eat for almost a week. I only called you to begin with because I wanted to know what it took to get me back in the field with the higher ups so that they didn't question the call."

_"Chris you can't just keep on bottling it up. You are a captain, if you want to take care of Piers the most you can do for him is make sure he gets some real help. He's not ready for this. You can't just sign off to make him happy. You didn't actually sign it did you? Its a felony to sign your name to that document if you don't believe it. And after what you just told me I wouldn't even feel safe sleeping at your place. I mean the kid isn't stable Chris."_

"Just a precaution Jill, I mean I've been sitting here for three days looking and drawing up these documents until they are literally to the letter. I just want this to go off without a hitch. If something wrong happened to him I could never forgive myself. What if someone hurts him Jill, no one can help him, not really... just forget I said anything to you okay? We'll be fine. I'll talk to him, get him to go in, or work it out. I'm sorry I said anything to you. Just do me a favor okay don't mention this to anyone? Thanks... just until things are sorted out alright? Thanks partner..."

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Its very hard... to put one's life back together after a series of traumatic events. Maybe people don't make it, they slowly digress and become shells of their former selves and suffer through life that way. Very often it is too much and someone will find an out, inadvertent or not. But there are times when those very few, actually make it out of the darkness in one piece. Still retaining bits of their former selves and put their lives back together. It is almost always those with a large support system, and those with a very strong will to survive. No one is capable of being strong all the time, and throughout his entire career to the date, Piers could remember being nothing but a strong soldier. He took pride in his work, and built himself up from nothing to begin with. There was no one the first time, to teach him to shoot, to get through the years of school, to drop out and join the military instead, to become the best at his job he could be and then at the youngest age allowed, be accepted into a world class military outfit, led by his singular idol. If Chris Redfield was capable of surviving, then what right had Piers to do less than that. Piers had been angry, sad, horrified, and depressed with himself, but he'd never really been completely honest. In his entire life had he never gone through anything that warranted this kind of behavior? Was he orphaned? Removed from the military? Killed all his friends? Watched his commanding officer turn out to be a psychotic villein and then have to turn around and kill him after losing your best friend in a battle like that? Gone through countless scenarios where depravity left you alone? No one had left Piers behind, they came back for him, and his captain had taken a leave to make sure he put himself together again, and he had only greeted that man with anger and hatred. They had had ups and downs, and he was the cause of them, because he was acting the part of a petulant child refusing to get over an event that happens to millions of people around the world. Nothing special gave Piers the right to act like this.

Smiling, the younger man shook his head, tugging on his gunner's gloves that had long ago become part of his body since the day he'd bought his first rifle, turning them over on his hands a few times to stare at where the bumps and grooves lined up in his grip perfectly with how his rifle rested. _But you don't deserve a weapon... You lost your rifle twice. _Piers ignored it. Four days and he let that voice in the back of his head tell him what was right, wrong, drove him to separate him from his captain even though they were much more than that now. He shouldn't have laid all that on Chris' chest. It hadn't been his fault, and he owed it to the man to not allow this situation to continue. To show him he could be okay, would be okay. _So full of yourself and proud, well how the mighty have fallen little bird. Always so proud and certain. Where's that certainty now? _"I have a right to be proud. I have a 100% hit ratio, I don't miss. I never miss. So shut up... Chris knows that, I carried that team for a year... its not like he hasn't seen that. Put a gun in my hands and I can do anything." He felt certain with a gun in his hands, but honestly he didn't deserve one, not without first apologizing to the man who'd gone through hell trying to bring Piers back. He deserved to see for himself that his hard work hadn't gone to waste. It was right to make him talk about it, because without talking about it there was no freeing yourself from it. He couldn't forget it, not with the voices in his mind constantly reminding them, but he could at least feel reprieve from them in Chris' presence.

Hands wound some more, reaching down and clawing at his knees where his fatigues bunched and riggings were clinging to his thighs. "I should have told him when I fell that I wasn't okay. That was my mistake, no one else, and I've been blaming him for it." Piers fingers wound over and over again weaving them into a basket and over again, tracing the numb pads with his thumb, shaking in half curled fists. He was trying to get himself back, he would be himself again and there was very little that Piers put his mind to that he could not achieve. He lived for challenges and this was the ultimate challenge. He had to put himself back to right. Tugging his Special Operations Unit uniform properly into place he couldn't help but stand and admire the work himself. It felt light though, no magazines, no artillery, no grenades. "Have to walk before you run rookie." Piers smirked slightly, gripping the coiling straps in one hand and flattening the other hand across his inner thigh, tugging it tighter until he could feel the fabric nipping at his skin. _You are no kind of soldier little boy, just a pretend soldier playing a man's game. Making your captain make the choice for you. He took those guns away because you can't handle yourself any more. Confident little sniper, you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn now. Look at those shaking hands, you couldn't hold a gun much less aim and shoot. "_He's not making any choices for me, he's trying to help. He deserves some proof that I'm fit for this. He didn't work to get where he is just to have me fall now." _You already fell... its just a matter of time before you do it again, and this time I'll be there to catch you, not your petty little captain._

Piers gripped his bag from off the chair, the one he hadn't touched since Chris had yelled at him the day at the range, tugging out the rest of his beige uniform. "I haven't given him any reasons to trust me. I'm a soldier, its my job to follow orders, not act like some trumped up mental patient," He needed a gun, is what he needed. Piers was soldier, without that he had nothing and it was starting to feel like nothing. He was helpless, he needed something in his hands to keep them steady. Just to take one apart and clean it or put it together. _He doesn't trust you with a gun, he thinks you're going to shoot yourself. But you are aren't you... Such a sad little story, can't hold yourself together even at the seam, they just keep coming apart... one at at time. _

"Shut up I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me. Things happen. Bad things happen to everyone, look at the number of people who get murdered every year, its not like bad things don't happen. There was always a chance something like this could happen, it's not like this is something I can't get over... you don't have any right to tell me what I can and can't do. I'll end you you piece of shit." _Sure you will little boy, just whimpering and simpering in the corner because he doesn't have what it takes any more. Just turn it in boy. Prove to them you've lost your touch. _"Oh just shut up." Piers yanked his duffel up, rifling around inside it in search of something he hadn't worn in a very long time, coming out victorious, clutching a beaded chain, opening his fingers to reveal the dog tags they'd given him as replacement to his army gear when he'd joined up with the S.O.U. "I'm perfectly capable of going back into the field and I don't need some doctor's note, or you, or Chris telling me otherwise, and I can prove it." _Chris... You mean your captain who had to take off a medical leave to take care of his mental patient, the one that thinks he can shoot a hallucination?_

"I'm not sick, I'm just sick of you that's all. Why can't you just let me be huh? I don't need you, I don't need anyone. I never have, and I sure as hell don't need some asshole that doesn't exist telling me how to live my life. I'm fine. I just... you need to leave me alone." Chris needed to leave him alone too. Why couldn't he have let things be? He wasn't hurting anyone by not talking about it, and then he had to go and demand him... _order_ him to talk about it, like they were still agent and captain after everything that had happened between them. They were far more than just comrades now, no matter how it had started out. _It can never go back to normal, he'll never see a soldier in you again._ Tugging on the last straps of his flak jacket, sliding straps tighter than their position had currently warranted; Piers could note the significant difference in muscle mass and his body tone. The mutation had made his lithe body stronger, but he was still lean, and after not eating for the last four days and eating very little the days before that, the shirt hung on him funny. Rolling his eyes, the younger man dipped his fingers down and started his work, top to bottom getting the straps in place and making sure they lined up properly. The two at his sides that held the shirt to his body had to be tightened all the way. After those had been secured Piers made the mental note in permanent marker to never go lax on his training ever again. Securing both straps around his forearms that clung the shirt from pulling or snaring on anything while in the field, and one across the collar finally the younger man could look at himself again without cringing. It was decent enough.

_Ever so eager to please, you want to look nice for him, captain's little slut. And now he knows, now he knows what a whore you are. You think about us every time you're with him, you're thinking about me even now. You want me inside you and so you use that cheap substitute, and now he knows it. You think this is going to impress him, that somehow it will change everything that happened? Even if he had thought about you before, now its all about me...all about how you know you will never go back, there is no going back. Fucked. Over and over. He can't look at you and see a soldier anymore, he sees a whore. He wanted a piece of that body just like everyone else. Because you were a such a slut and put out for him and now he doesn't know how to get rid of you now that he's had you. This will never work, no matter what you want, because in the end all he'll ever see is a whore. _"Just Shut up! Its not like that!" _You want him to hit all the sweet spots, fuck you until you can't feel anymore; you don't really want to be out there. Come on Piers, just end it, end everything, accept what you are, accept how disgusting you've been. You let yourself become a sick twisted little slut that can't wait for the next cock to suck. You wish you were a soldier, soldiers are honorable they are good and clean. You're just another two piece cumguzzler and waiting for your captain to-_

"STOP IT!" Watery hazel oculars snapped shut, clenching and shaking his head, silence finally filling his senses and his head. Finally there was quiet. Exhaling as much oxygen into his lungs as they would dare, releasing a few more breaths until he was certain for the eerie quiet. They hadn't stopped in days, but he was shutting them out, doing his damnedest to make certain they wouldn't top him from doing this. This was all he had left, they couldn't take that too, they wouldn't, and they wouldn't ruin Chris. Not him. Brushing down his uniform the sniper's features slowly relaxed, furrowed brows arching naturally, lips full as one more breath relaxed and the tension in his shoulders melting away. Crossing he room, hands trapped the door handle in place, then snaked the lock as well, clicking in its joints and junctions to free the door to swing with just the slightest effort.

The door aide, the hallway was empty as was the rest of the house. The fact that Chris wasn't there was both a relief and a fear. He wasn't sure he was ready for this, but then he was certain he was, and on top of that it was good Chris was trusting him alone. Wasn't it? Stepping into the livingroom the young soldier's boot falls were muffled by the carpet, spotting the front door open and the screen shut, Chris periodically walking across the front porch on the phone, grumbling something at the recipient in his normal bear like grumble, swearing and smoking like a chimney. The normalcy of it caused the sniper to shake his head and smile, stepping across the livingroom and into the kitchen, the instant food came to mind making his gut gurgle angrily, ignoring it at the sight of the paperwork on the table. That was Chris, always back to work. Of course he couldn't expect the man to stay cooped up forever. They had always been similar in that respect, never stayed on leave for long, it would be a nice surprise for him to see his seemingly crazed partner back in gear and back in one piece, without voices in his... Long lashes fluttered several times, eyes as sharp as hawk's rested on the manilla folder labeled with his own name on it. Flicking his eyes to the one beside it Piers felt his chest constrict completely. He'd never had a psych evaluation done... the only way one could have been made was if his captain had made the call for them. Fingers grazed the smooth paper, tracing over the letters as he read them. _See that Piers, not fit... there it is, right there, the end of your career. Of your life. He's done with you._ "No... there's a personal request for me to return... I mean, it, I...," eyes shifted to the other cover letter, a lump growing in his throat until his attention went to the signature at the bottom.

"Piers!" Papers were immediately swiped away, Chris' hand crumpling the one swallowing as he looked hopeful at his partner. Oh please God, tell me he didn't see that... There was that look again, the one where he was looking at nothing except he inside of his heart breaking, just ignore it, tell him he'll be okay. Tell him it will be fine. Tell him you are going to be by his side through all this. FUCK IT! "I... I didn't expect... look that wasn't what you thought." _Discharged from duty. He's done with you Nivans, you are all mine._ "Look I was just looking over the appropriate paperwork we needed to fill out and... you look," Chris smiled genuinely, brown examining the perfectly set uniform on his partner's body, the contours it hugged to, despite the look on his face, that stricken look; regret and agony mingling together into a sickening drink Piers was being forced to drink. But look at him, Piers was so put together so normal, so... fuck this. "Hey its a good thing you put that on... I just finished these, just needs my signature okay? As of right now, you are back in the field. You and me." Chris grit his teeth, fist tightening around the crumpled wad until there was naught to see but the thick pile of files in his other hand, the _unsigned papers_. "Hope you are ready for this." Piers eyes raised, looking up at Chris and seeing nothing. Pen snatched from the cup on the other side of the table and immediately set to the scrawl, signature scratched and prepared. "Like I said Piers, you and me."

Full lips worked at the corners, eyes finally blinking and taking in all of Chris. Worst liar on the planet Redfield... _All mine Nivans, all mine. _"Thank you captain. I... thanks."

* * *

**Hope you know what you are doing Chris...**


	12. Chapter 12

_Kill them..._ The voice out of the blue while booted feet traversed the grounds splayed out before him with the men of Alpha team... the men he'd finally been returned to. The first mission since the day, since the beginning of all of this, since the beginning of the failed operation that led to his disembodiment. Nothing there among them was living, the dead filed through the streets, but not dead. They weren't the dreaded t-virus, no they could never hope for that, creatures slow and predictable. No, this was what the world unleashed as a plague Alpha team, it was Piers' personal hell; people with their motor functions still intact but their minds gone. Redemption. Chris had given him this, the chance to return to the field and make amends for what had happened, even if he hadn't believed he could do it. He'd seen it clear as day, his captain was a step from locking him away inside the loony bin. A step away from resigning him to death at the hands of some thousands of doctors who would cut him open wide, remove his insides and study him for further research. The only reason he'd signed those papers was because that look on his. Chris had signed it and was ready to turn him in, but he'd been caught in the act; ruining his resolve. Fear and doubt that it was the wrong decision was ever present, fear that Chris was right and he should never have been out here, but the doubt started when the voices did. It was time to show him he was better than that, time to educate the captain he could pass by and survive this hellish visitation of his last mission, the last failed op. There were creatures all around them, but their unit was perfect, uniform just as it had been that day, it was perfection, and so was he, machine pistol cold and delicate in those fingers, cradling it as a child before a cracked mask raised, machete in mitt, raised and lunging over the counter tops within and over head. No hesitation. Finn beside him gasped and recalled how to breath when four shots rang out, two to the skulls, the first broke the mask and the skull, the second sent a splatter of blood covering the filth-some place in giant globs of brain matter, gray and infected, his brother following before it hit the floor. No hesitation. The J'avo that walked beside him was speaking again, speaking, walking, morphing with the youngest of the Alpha team; the most harmless of them all. _We all changed you know. You should kill them before it's too late, before they all become like me._

"Thanks Piers..."

"Head up Macauley, you've got a gun for a reason." Ignoring that Finn's face had briefly in his peripheral starting to paint itself white with red gory stripes on the ceramic that was bulging from his features; Piers shook his head once and it was over. Taking time to check the bodies, the sniper squatted down over the corpse, fingers finding the pulse, checking the holes that concave its face like a crater. Its right eye had gone first, leaving a nice finger width hole through the socket, the second through the mouth took all the teeth when it blew through the face. Finn was avoiding eye contact, nudging the other dead body with his foot as though he'd catch something by breathing it's air. He probably could and would, but he kid needed to man up. Even after falling off a roof Piers didn't have that kind of hesitation, at least not the kind that he was complaining about. Piers didn't have anything holding him back, he was born in the battle field, even sick and unable to focus he could go through the steps like it was first nature. Rising and tapping forefinger and middle to his thumb, observing the slickness of the iron between his fingers the sniper nodded please, two fingers pointing toward the elevator and slashed at his throat, his silently gagging rookie copying and taking up place behind. The ace hooter didn't enjoy people at his six he didn't know, but Chris didn't approve people that were incapable. There wasn't time for slow and steady in the S.O.U., it was everything fast passed and though it seemed like an eternity moving through this single building it was more like seconds between the threshold and the base of narrow steps, wide enough for only one at time and that was only men of smaller size, Piers had to twist his body so his back was to the wall, crossing steps over and gunning down another fleeing j'avo, this time partially mutated before the bullet took the brain stem. Finn's quiet steps were just behind him, in the corner of hazel, eagle sharp eyes, taking up his position just like they were all trained their first day rather than stepping up and covering the backs. Ignoring the fact that this young man was less trained than a pen toting secretary was getting more difficult, but he did the trick, that was all that mattered, and his weak trembling voice was keeping Piers' own thoughts in the game. Babbling on about some mother that was back at home waiting for his letters, things normally Piers would reprimand him for, but the constant droning on was working to keep his nerves down. It wasn't like he couldn't do this with his eyes closed, but he needed the distraction when there were those moments of silence.

Crossing the second story, Piers took a place at the window, glass splattering everywhere as his elbow blew out the lower window pane and he flashed three fingers out at his partner below. Body count of the building thus far. They wanted to know just how many had been turned and how many had merely died. So far the two man cell had had the unfortunate experience of encountering no stoic dead, instead, only j'avo. Chestnut brown met his own, flashing the okay at him to continue up, before they were moving quicker than before. He could do this fine, he wasn't down yet, wasn't out of the game, and that look on his captain's face was a reassuring one to see. One they'd shared so many times before this whole diabolical event occurred. It was getting harder to move on, his was out of conditioning and there were a matter of the voices, but Chris had been reassuring. Calming in the matter. _'You'll be okay partner. Just take it one step at a time, we've got an entire team, and there's nothing mysterious about this. Its response that's all. A break out we need to level. Point a shoot, and you're the best shot we've got.'_ The captain had been more than reassuring, he'd been supportive. Almost thirteen full dry practice runs with him and 100% of them passed without a stray bullet. He was nervous, and he was seeing things, but Chris just kept a hand on him the entire time, physically and mentally goading him that it would all be fine. He would know, Chris was a survivor of long standing P.T.S.D. so it would only make sense taking his direction on the matter. _'The visions will go away after you work through it, the voices take longer, but you'll get there. Just remember I'm right here, if you can't do this I'll call the mission. Trust me Piers._' He would be fine. For certain. Chris said it, and even if he'd resigned him to the nuthouse, he was trying. They were out on a mission, and if anyone else knew what was going through his head they'd scream, but Chris was sure. That was enough for him.

Still, it was becoming harder for Piers to do. To clear his mind using the steps his captain had gone over with him; closing his eyes for a split second wasn't working anymore. The zombie-like creature would still be there; its arm slowly morphing and becoming a grayed dead wand of mortified flesh that was gruesomely reminding the sniper of the beast that had branded him of the infection. Noises overhead jarred him back out of it; Finn's spooked doe eyes flashing at him like a complete tool. The thuds of feet spoke who was above, his fingers stroking the curved trigger before foot over foot, crossing up the rickety doomed steps to the third landing; leaving their explosives expert at his back telling him to kill Alpha team. While the silent thuds trembled under his feet, his eyes and weapon raised above the dais of the room, two more single shots and another body landing at Piers' feet while he jogged the remaining stairs. Leaping the stinking mutilated body and following the set of fleeting steps to the next room, Piers slid onto his knees through the door way as silver broke the air where his scarf covered neck use to be. Rolling to the tattered tan flak back, both legs, heels to the ground braced for shots, the J'avo lunging to the side and into the first led shot puncturing the thigh and tearing dark sinewy muscle; collapsing the remaining body over his shins. Knife flailing seeking purchase and blood, Both were a whirl of grunts and howling to find the clear shot. Tightness gripped Piers chest; his head spun, kicking his leg out while gnarled nails dug into his fatigues and into his leg; scrambling against the pounding of blood through his ears. The world softly disappearing and then his gun sounded a second time limp body hugging him, smiling with blood sloughing from its mouth while blank, dead eyes laughed out at him. Piers' heel colliding with the mashed skull, smashing it from its soft sagged neck and freeing himself all in one swift movement. _'Deep breathes and squeeze your eyes, everything will right itself.'_

Jerked to his feet the wooden floors bowed under his weight and threatened to throw him back to his knees, but resolve stole over and he followed his pass. "Come on Macauley, we don't have all day." _Neither does he... soon he'll be a beast... a mutated version of himself trying to tear your flesh from your bones. _"Shut it." His soft tenor was callous, sharp and biting while the bomb maker made his meek entrance, eking around the corpse on the ground, grimacing at the sniper with a pulled mouth, his tongue poking out in brief appearance while flashing Chris the number through the window panes. His shoulders were quaking before pulling his own 9-0-9 to the ready; Finn whimpering in return of seeing the blood soaked material on his partner's legs; grunting from behind the 'J'avo mask' he wore in regards to its own kind before being returned to Finn with a quick shake of Piers' head. "We don't have time for you to be afraid rookie. Get up there and set the charges." _'This will get easier Piers okay? I'm right here.'_

Youthful face nodded and ran. Finn was a new member of Alpha. The replacement they'd considered for the sniper until they'd heard of his return, until they'd argued about it. Ben had taken the captain's side, that whatever headquarter's admitted would be followed through to the letter. They had stood steadfast by one another. Marco had been reluctant, but had not divulged what had happened between the sniper and himself, despite the fact that it had been him first to suggest their ace take more time, silenced by their captain in one fell blow. When it had been Andy, the argument had begun. There had been many hours, warring over the security of their team. Everything was brought to light by then, told to wait in a hall while his peers discussed it in 'private' for him to hear every word through muted walls. 'An unstable right hand, accountable to no one.' That had been the words that had hit home. Chris had battled him out of the room to have this discussion but that was the straw that broke the camel's back. That bound his body and his mind; sent him hurtling through the door despite orders and throttling Andy, his fingers winding in the fabric about his throat and throwing him up against the walls. Chris had smoothed it over with the brass, but it didn't stop the fact Walker refused to be paired with him. He couldn't blame him after all this, but nothing would smooth over what had happened like a successful mission.

Keep the kid alive. That was his job. Cover him while he gathered up top four different buildings; set the charges, blow the tops, and get that boy home in one piece like he failed to do for himself. Burying glove clad palm in his eye socket to grind away the thoughts, he rose his head clearing his mind. Andy had all rights to doubt him after seeing what had happened with the bathroom when he'd narrowly slit his own neck trying to pull something out of him that wasn't all him. He was sure it was one of the reasons Finn was tripping on himself. Being out in the field with the thing inside him working so uncomfortably like snakes coiling within the confines of his throat, releasing whatever perverted grasp they took on people and drawing the small rookie to look and stray places he damn well had no reason to. He saw the eyes go more than once to take a once over his superior officer. Even if he was physically ready for this..., he wasn't. He was compromising this mission just by being part of it, just by being a lure to this poor pansy. He wasn't ready for this, Chris had been right the first time. He was going to serve the rest of his days in psychiatric rehabilitation and serve them maddened until he pressed a muzzle in his mouth and pulled the trigger. No..., no he wasn't. He would get passed this, just like his captain ensured him. This creature in his windpipe, suffocating him every time someone got close, flooding his system with the impulse to do things he never would, would slowly deaden and he would feel no need to react. Piers Nivans had great resolve, wonderful resolve, he could push it away and shove it back. He'd get this boy home and in one piece, he'd prove to everyoneon this team he was the best they could get. He'd get Finn home. Grinding away the visions, full lips curled into a small smile, wiping away his fear at this and his resignation in another before following his ward up the precipice.

Footfalls carried him up the dilapidated wood and over to the ventilation shaft where his comrade knelt, pressuring him with the outside of his foot to Finn's knee. He heard an audible groan while crossing over some wires, from concentration or from lack of it, Piers wasn't sure, but it was weak either way. MP-AF was lifted at the ready, eyes down the barrel and hugging the weapon, doing short semi circles around him in a pace that seemed to serve only to make the explosives protégé nervous. He'd forgone his rifle. At least that's what he was telling himself. Captain Redfield had been the one to secure it and say it was overkill on this mission. What was a sniper without a damn rifle. Finn's hands were shaking with discomfort, but sureness that moved him just like the sniper's eyes moved him. If only those eyes weren't constantly trying to play tricks on him and pretend the boy he was protecting was his mind's eye monster, grinning with pleasure waiting for him to break. Piers just glanced at the rotting skinned man, thinking about taking it's head off before thinking twice on the matter. Giving Finn a reassuring pat on the shoulder, he felt himself channel the leader below, "Doing good soldier, just keep it up and we'll be out of here in no time." He could hear the other teams shouts. Marco on the other set sweeping the roof with Walker at his side. The captain was ground level with Airhart, fielding the ground troops. There were times he didn't know what was real or not, and this was one of those times. The man closed his eyes tightly to see if it would work and the cessation of noise from the man on his knees beside him jarred him awake again; becoming painfully aware of the eyes on him. "You done Macauley? That was the last one."

The other man nodded in agreement, clasping gloved hands with the sniper and hauling himself to his feet. "Red flare right?"

"When the job is done. Rose and Walker haven't checked in yet. We get ground level, alright rookie?"

They descended faster than the ascension had taken, feet sliding down the steps rather than taking them one at a time, weapons ready but unnecessary until they hit the street, blinding light boring into the senses while the muzzle flash from two weapons threatened and then retreated, Airhart and Redfield, covering the mass automatic fire that was thundering through the streets. "Cover!" Baritone his his senses, Piers' hand snapping out, jerking Finn backward and up against the wall of the building they'd cleared two canisters of mass destruction hurtling through the air, the first blowing apart with blinding light, the second exploding with metal and bits of shrapnel tearing through the sky, a blasting explosion taking the windows of every buildings first floor with it. A wave of heat covered their faces, holding Finn back with his arm tight over his chest to keep him secured up. The burn was enough to make sweat evaporate off their features before the seconds were over and their tension released, Finn slumping against the wall while Piers tossed a third in accompany to Chris, round the corner of the building where the cross fire came, shoving the kid back. It was getting easier, his captain wasn't kidding. A few more minutes and they'd blow the Finn a tap on the shoulder, he flicked two fingers over round the corner where the explosion had occurred, following after it to finish the work, one bullet for each downed corpse in the face. _Don't leave him behind... Chris left you behind and remember what happened? What I did to you? Mmm, you tasted so sweet... _Eyes shot back over his shoulder and was met by nothing, the voice so close in his ear he was sure that someone had been there, MP-AF lifted to a head that wasn't there. _Maybe he would like it. Do you think so? Do you think he'd moan like you did? _

"Sir?"

"Holy!" Piers jumped out of his skin, turning on his heel when the voice of younger years hit his canals. He'd come around the other side, just like a proper soldier, didn't make it make more sense that Finn's voice had turned into a European murdering, bulging eyed monstrosity's gurgle for that brief second. "Macauley! get the hell out of here, NOW!" Finn jumped and ran, almost stumbling over himself, leaving Piers alone in the alley. _He scared you? That little boy? What's the matter soldier, are you losing your edge? _His heartbeat picked up, falling against the wall of the building beside him, the siding crunching under the added weight after having just been assaulted by grenade. The wad of muscle was pounding in his chest, getting quicker and larger, destroying reality as the menacing voice nibbled at his earlobe, head reeling. His breathing went with it. Fingers numbed, hands shaking, their machine pistol with them; while his head did a complete 360 trying to visualize everything Chris had said._ He can't help you, no one can help you._ Chris and the others were like family to him and being with them while this was happening was worse than having been alone in the house while Chris avoided him. His mind ran a mile a minute along with the voices crept closer, licking and biting his senses unconsciously shaking his head back and forth in sporadic jerks. _They all have it. They are all infected. Every one of them. Take them out Nivans, bury that pistol tip in each one of their heads and remove our sickness. You'll make them free Piers. Burn away he humanity. You see the way they look at you, they know. They know you are going to kill them, that you are going to be their end. They know about your infection too, you are their kin. Brothers in arms and brothers in death_. He knew damn well they hadn't turned, they couldn't have though the impulse was slowly rising within his psyche. _You touched them, you scarred them each one. You infected them. Do you want them to become like those creatures? Poor Finn he's already changed, you can see it in his eyes. The things you've done for the captain, you know he's been doomed since the first day he laid his hands on your disgusting body._ "No... I didn't, I haven't hurt them. It wasn't-" _Marco when you slacked your tongue down his throat, caressing his with us. And poor Walker... you know its in him. All the blood. Its only a matter of time before Airhart discovers what you've done. Its time Piers, lift your weapon, end their sufferi-_

"Whoa," Chris voice cut in softly. "Take a breath partner." Hazel eyes widened, breathes trapped in his chest, the captain's large palms on top of his shoulders, holding him stationary from bolting. "Its okay... come on now, we talked about this okay? Suck it up." Chris tried the tone of the demanding captain, but instantly it died away, raising one hand to pet the soft contours of youthful countenance. "Sshhhh... Piers, I'm right here okay? Walker and Rose just reported their last roof clear, they're coming down right now. You're going to be okay. Almost made it alright?" He was getting a bit concerned about his young sniper, the last time his partner seemed to be this out of control he'd almost cut his throat out trying to pull the thing out of his neck. Chris' hand cupping that young face immediately set olive skin at ease, all the well knit features coming lax while he stroked the flesh under his thumb. "There you go..."

Piers looks up at Chris before shaking his head. "I... Don't think I can... Captain..." It was all he could manage to say trying to get his wind back. Anxiety had never been an issue while part of the S.O.U. but it was evidently becoming harder to master, canting his face into Chris' gloved hand while the captain kept watch over him and the alley entrances for both friendlies and hostiles, letting them stay this way as long as he dared before relinquishing his hold on the sniper, his breathing regulating and the world righting, turning away from him.

"Its okay Piers, like I said... it will get easi-

"Captain!" Tenor split the air, gun hoisted and shots ringing out to take three bodies leaping from above, bodies falling with a splat to the ground, bones crunching as each one hit the ground, Jerking Chris out of the way, the captain's own gun flying out to take two more for the opposing roof top, tipping with gravity to come falling from the sky around them both, bodies crumpling with limbs scattering, brains oozing out. But there was no time to think on it, just more gun fire from their own men, darting from the alley way to see the flooding in the streets. "Alpha team move out!" Chris was belaying ordered the same way, all six cover firing for each other while hoards of creatures came toward them. At least two dozen. A hail of fire was surrounding hem, none to their backs and all to their fronts. Chris covered while Marco made the escape, Andy and Ben right behind him. Piers folded in when his captain's voice called for it, grabbing Finn by the arm and dragging him, his machine pistol in one arm, auto fire drumming the ears while bodies stacked up. Fire fight was an understatement. By the time they'd cleared Marco rose his switch, counting it off with Macauley while Chris came bungling through into them, the explosions knocking him off his feet while tumbling end over end landing in a half roll with a chuckle as the buildings and shrapnel fell down on those that had opened fire on them smattering the remaining j'avo with blood and gore.

There was that uncomfortable laughter among everyone, chuckling and patting each other's backs. "What did I tell you? Mission successful partner." Chris made a sigh of relief, clapping his hand on Piers' shoulder, his eyes brown eyes smiling at the sniper who stood in front of Finn, finally allowing himself a breath. "There you go. We made it out, all of us. Let's get home."

Piers allowed himself a smile, turning to face the young explosives expert who's face was his own again; gloved hands reaching out to clasp one another in a success. Fingertips slipping apart, color greeting peripherals and canting his head just the briefest. _I told you I'd get him._ Hazel eyes went wide; palm shooting out and shoving an unsuspecting agent Macauley that was sent sprawling to the ground, dust kicking up as the hand reached for his own. The claws reaching for him moved in slow motion; machine pistol muzzle raising on command of fumbling hands, usual sure with every movement, while the ceramic masked villain lunged for the rookie. The world stepped by stepped, slow motion for the revelations the world made until it was almost inching by, Piers' heart ceased its beating. Strangling fists reached voraciously,sharpshooter's gun moving quicker than the stumble of that monster beside him. Trigger nuzzled the crook of his finger, glove snaring and jerking back as the bullet and hand on his own wrist came instantaneously and a muted scream blessed the air. "ANDY!" Chris' fingers shoved the gun aside and Piers entire body aside, the team splayed out before him. Everything spurring into fast forward. Finn body was collapsed on the ground shaking, scrambling away, cowering from Piers who was failing to breath and meet eyes with the 'j'avo' that had lunged toward him, who now was screaming in pain, clutching his knee cap gushing blood between quivering digits as ceramic changed to goatee and a face he knew too well; haunting eyes clenching shut. "God Piers' what have done!


	13. Chapter 13

"He almost killed an agent Chris! He raised that weapon and trained it directly on his face and pulled the trigger. If you didn't have reflexes like you do Andy Walker would have been splattered in the desert somewhere captain! On your watch. He's not safe to be with." Jill's voice was the dominate one, bellowing order s as the two ex partners raised their voices in defense of the same cause. The defense to protect the agency from a direct internal assault, and the defense of one of its best agents. They'd had to call in the mission details as soon as And y had been shot, there were witnesses, too many witnesses and they had to get Walker to a hospital before his life's blood gushed out between the slats of Airhart's fingerless gloves. They'd had to report everything, condemn everything, an d there was nothing he could do from now until then except care for the lives put in his hands, all the lives. And here they were, a banded together board of trust that would decide the fate of his unit, piece by piece, like a jigsaw puzzle except they wanted to start throwing away the edge pieces. Macauley, Rose, Valentine, and four other general's in charge of command. Here he was standing, before a board of men that understood war fr om afar, rather than the place at his side, and they had come to judge the one person he would trade them all for. He'd had to save Walker, he couldn't hide the truth from coming out of all those men' s mouths, the great gift of gab. All these people here to fight for what they didn't understand and the one person who i t truly effected was absent.

"He's fine! He's just shell shocked that 's all. I had Post Traumatic, and look w hat happened. Piers isn't just some goddamn toy soldier, he's a professional who's better than 95% of the agents you send out there on those missions. You're telling me he's not afforded the same luxury as you were when you needed time off because of Wesker? Piers came back okay, that's the first step."

"Walker may never serve again because of that shot Chris, he put a hole the size of an orange through his kneecap!"

"He'll be fine in a few weeks, once his head is back in the game. I'm not dropping him just because you are getting the squeeze from headquarters. They can fuck themselves!"

"And where is agent Nivans exactly?"

Damn it... and there was the question wasn't it? They didn't want to talk to Chris. They didn't even care what he had to say. All they wanted, was to take him. They wanted Piers hanged for what happened back there and they called them in, not for a trial by fire, but for an execution. Take him out of the field and take him away from the B.S.A.A. From the S.O .U.. So here they were at a stand still, well only Chris knew. He hadn't seen Piers disappear... no one had, he was a ghost sniper before he joined up with the special operations unit, and there were reasons he was so valuable. Not valuable enough it seemed. Didn't matter. No one knew where Nivans had taken leave of himself too except those who were closest to him, those willing to understand him and that was only one person. He would f ix this first, then find Piers, even if it meant his own career. It was good Pie rs had gone, Chris hadn't told him directly to go, but it was in the tone of deep resounding, commanding baritone. His body language as he refused to give Piers his full attention while the man sat in his own place, gun secured by Rose. Head in his hands, Piers had spent the entire trip seeking Chris' eyes, trying to f ind comfort, but there was none that he could give. He cared for Piers, but he h ad to play this off. He knew what was waiting for them when they landed and he couldn't be seen to play favorites here, it had to be advocating. His attention before they landed hand to fall on Walker , to prove he was a captain who was profoundly aware of the goings on in his group and that when a man was injured he was there, not just covering for a bad move, but taking each precautionary step. " He's doing what I ordered and keeping hi s head low. He doesn't need this shit, e specially after the stunts you people keep trying to pull. What the Hell were yo u thinking calling in Macauley and Rose to act as witnesses? They saw shit. Could have happened to any one of them. Tell him Macauley!"

"Agent Nivans saved me... a couple of times. I.., well it was my first op so I mean I wasn't really sure of anything really. I mean Captain Redfield tells you before you go out there that you are never ready for your first mission so I guess it's only normal. I mean I was a little jittery sure... I didn't mean to do anything wrong generals I swear."

Finn was shuffling like a five year old girl under mommy's eyes trying to explain how their best friend stopped them fro m walking into a moving car just before crossing a busy street themselves. It was dangerous, but Finn got the best of Piers. The snarky, one sided banter of a commanding soldier made for a subordinate. Piers was every bit the commanding officer in that mission, the entire time. Instructional, sharp, a 100% shooter, and no hesitation. The only thing incriminating that Finn had had the chance to observe was that he'd yelled at him a bit harshly for taking too little charge with his job, other than that the only thing that their so called witness could have said was that Piers had defended him in the event they were attacked and Walker had stepped too quickly into his peripheral that under the semblance that they were still endangered, Piers took the shot. Any soldier could have mistaken the quick movement, particularly if said soldier was one that was charged with the rookie's well being. "He acted in a way according to a soldier. It was a snap decision, we'd just been attacked. What were you hoping to hear, that the best rookie sniper in the country had a breakdown? I signed those papers. I'm not wrong. He just needs time."

They were winning this... Chris took an invisible sigh of relief as the generals started in on Macauley. He was sorry fo r the kid, but this was probably the only good that could have come out of calling witnesses. At least in this state the y could get their questions answered by a nervous kid who had a fair amount of hero worship. Stuttering all doe eyed an innocent, Finn had been the one that the sniper saved several times over this mission and that left him with an incurable disease called faith. Piers might hate rookies, but Finn might yet be his savior in this case. Narrowed brown eyes took in the rest of the room for the first time in the last twenty minutes, checking the faces of the men who grilled their youngest like a suspect in criminal activities. Jill was glowering in his direction, over his heaving, testosterone filled being, huge and hulking in presence compared to all these men. Towering over the weak minded, Chris' fists lowered from across his chest as the conversation at hand came to a calming point, a slow yet powerful understanding between them that the investigation, if they wished to continue, might best be served on a trial by error and it seemed that what had happened here was as the captain described it: misdirection. Large biceps flexed as the men of the room huddled together, like a gathering of penguins all in their suits, discussing in their head down fashion, the state of a man's livelihood. What right had they to make decisions on how to treat a man's career that meant everything to him. And they didn't understand, 72 hours ago he was certain that his partner and lover would make the ultimate choice to kill himself, starvation or otherwise. It had been a true act of God to see him come to him, dressed in full gear ready to go, and not lying starved to death on the bed with a gun in his mouth. Piers was all that mattered here, and he needed these men to see that they needed to give a damn too. Thank God they were...

Valentine was giving more than her fair share of obscenities through her expressive blue eyes, the kind that once a long time ago he would have been melted by. But yet there was this abundance of self righteousness there and Chris struggled to meet her and convey all that mattered to him. She knew, and it was his fault. He needed her not to know. A lobotomy would be in order for her in the near future. Piers meant everything. More than these men in their suits, or Jill and her judgment. Hopefully she would understand someday, what this was for. She had had her fair share of days seeing things, of being worked through to the core and abused by the job she loved so much. The B.S.A.A. hadn't allowed for Jill to return to the field after her excursion against them on under duress. They were being used to make a world safe, the least they could do was recognize the people who did exactly that. Under these circumstances, she had to understand that.

"Captain." Jerking his head back to attention, Chris returned his exacting glare to the men responsible for choosing their destiny. If they knew what was good for them, they shut the hell up and hand over a release form that said the case was closed. "We understand the position your in. After all we have seen a fair amount of soldiers lost in the field over these past months thanks to the uprising of C-virus. Headquarters is recording record numbers for the outbreak in losses. It was a miracle that agent Nivans was recovered at all from his unfortunate situation. His ability to strive through such an event as that of being captured by an enemy such as this is quite admirable." The lot continued talking and Chris put on his filter. Governmental jargon meant for covering asses; feed through one ear and out the other until you hit the important words. "Agent Macauley your testimony was most helpful to us, you have leave to rejoin your unit." Finn nodded, saluted clumsily, and disappeared out the door behind Chris' back, the one he never turned to look at while his viper's stare maintained on the quivering mice before him. "As for your partner, agent Nivans, I believe after much discussion that he should be once more returned to the field and allowed to continue his work in stabilizing the defense of our-

"He's _infected_ Chris!"

"He's what!?"

A thousand voices rose up at once, an cacophony that filled the ear drums and blared over the blood rushing to his face as he roared up in defense of his slandered partner. It as truth, but they couldn't believed, he couldn't let them. "Watch your mouth Valentine, Piers is a decorated soldier and a damn fine human being! He's worth a lot more than the bullshit you're-

"He's infected captain, and you damn well know it. That dodgey physical report you gave us with missing pieces? You're statement signed and swearing that he was mentally capable without ever having seen a psychologist; one of several hundred we keep on staff for that very thing. You're hiding him from them even now because you know that he would never-

"Piers Nivans is fine!" Chris lurched to three times his size, chest puffed full of distress and hatred. They were inches from one another, her small able body falling in line with his as they came face to face. Towering above her at 6'1'' Chris was easily the more horrifying of the accusers, but Jill had the upper hand in terms of dependability in the field of honesty here at the B.S.A.A. Chris was always fighting authority. It got him into a great deal of trouble in the Air Force, and it was no different here in Bioterrorism Task Force. Huge biceps the size of Valentine's head bulged with the added tension of their accusations, the upheaval of their decision causing a stir among all as war fell down upon them. "There's no way that you can accused him of being infected Valentine, he has no symptoms of infection. How do you explain that? Having stress doesn't automatically mean that you are a mutated creature from the pits of Hell! It means he had a rough day and it was his first back after what could have been his life!" Their screaming continued babble back and forth that had every attentive ocular in the room transfixed on their every step before it became a replica of the explosive kick back of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. There was no stopping it, or righting the truthful outraged shouts of one Jill Valentine against Chris' rebuttals made of nothing but lies,strongly worded ones. All would have been for nothing if this continued on, Jill had to understand that, had to know didn't she? This would only end with pain.

"Its true sir." Not Marco. "Nivans is infected." Oh God no.

"Shut up Rose! You don't know what you are talking about! Stay the Hell out of this!"

"Let him talk Captain."

Marco swallowed, looking once at his captain Redfield as though he had forsaken everything by revealing a truth that the man had staked his career to protect. Chris would do anything to save his men from injustice, they all knew that. Alpha team were consistent of men who knew well their medal, of what their commanding officer would do for them. He would lay down his life for any person in Alpha team, but this time it had gone to far. Stepping up in rank, a sharp snapped elbow jerking to position, the salute cut short all prior discussion, all eyes on explosives expert. "Nivans... I mean we didn't all see what happened in that shithole down there after Piers got caught. All I saw was the blood..., and what was left of Nivans. He was torn to pieces. I mean none of us even thought he'd make it to the hospital captain... Andy thought he as dead when we found him."

"He got better Rose! He's healing, he's-

"Infected captain. I felt it. You know it too. When he... that day on the range. I felt it, so did you. He hasn't been he same since we found him. He's been secluded, and cold. A month ago you nearly took my head off because you thought he was suicidal and didn't want me giving him access to the gun range. Then Andy comes to check on him and he's tearing his own throat out! You haven't been the same since that day in the hospital when you took him against medical leave." Walker was still talking when Chris zoned out, eyes falling to the floor as he finally pulled up to his full stature, hearing the key words. The verbal filter. "Piers Nivans is a liability. Did our best to keep it under the table... but there's no way to hide it anymore. They won't let you hide this. Walker signed the report Captain . I'm sorry. We all did."

* * *

So this was what it all came down to. A hunt to find a man who was the single bravest he knew. Marco may have been right, that Chris had changed when the incident happened. That finding Piers, broken on the ground, his numerous bones smashed to pieces, his eye and side of his face swollen passed recognition... That seeing him there with a monster inside him, degrading the soldier beneath in a puddle of his own fluids, blood and gore, vomit clinging to beige flak jacket that was the only piece of in tact clothing... That the raping he'd taken, the ragged breaths had all led down to this. Marco told them everything. That when they'd found him, the captain had to force the flight crew just to take him. How Chris had pulled the strings to get him out of the hospital before they could do a full examine or take care of all his wounds. Even against his own advice, told them how when he'd taken Piers to the gun range, the first thing he asked for was a rifle, and how he couldn't resist him. That there was something about him and within seconds no matter who he was or how opposed he was to it, Piers and him had wound up sucking face with each other. Chris could still remember finding them. Walking in with Piers hands sliding over Marco's, guiding them to his hips and crushing their lips together until the world went white and Marco was lost in that mouth that Chris knew all too well.

Was that what this was? Whatever had been wrong with his partner truly affected him that much? Love... He thought he loved Piers. Thought that every thing they did together, what they didn't do, was so personal. Could that all have been a lie too? Was he really just under the influence of the pheromones that emit from Piers' pores? Making love to him over and over again, touching that smooth olive skin, tasting every inch of it. Even now, walking the lake side where he took the sniper after their first mission together, he could still remember craving those things, wanting them long before this whole thing began. Piers hadn't been on Alpha very long, but they clicked the two, pointman and sniper, a perfect fit of gestures and mannerisms that all worked into a single picture. So many months of torture they had gone through together fighting back bioterrorism and making the world a safer place. The same ideals, the same hardships, even the same behavior. They were destined to be together in a way... though maybe destiny hadn't meant for that to be with a tawny brunette sniper, broken and cut down, falling into him so recklessly. Seeing him there, fingers in the water on the dock with his arm draped over the side and casting ripples over the reflective surface; Chris could still see that once perfect small smile, only for him. The captain smiled, a sorrowful thing, walking up behind, foot falls padding along each plank of teak wood. The echoed thump off the wood, down to water and back greeted sharp senses, watching as it caused the younger man to jump with a start, spotting the only person who didn't cause him to bolt. "I thought I'd find you here..."

"I... I didn't know where else to go." It hurt to hear it, but Chris steeled his resolve, sitting on the edge beside him, feeling Piers immediately slip into him, like ice melting into water. "I'm sorry... I should have told you-

"Don't worry on it Piers, okay? I took care of it." Chris sighed, stroking the side of Piers' soft visage and feeling that wave of pheromone hit him, remembering what Marco had said. _Yeah... taken care of. You took care of it alright Chris... _Continuing to pet his face, strong hands held the lean body close, wrapping about a strong waist that pulled him up into his lap, facing them out off the edge of the dock toward the water. It was hard to hold him like this, with Andy's blood on his hands from having held the tourniquet in place, waves of water have slouched the crimson staining away on toughened callouses. They would have forgiven the weakness of shooting Walker, but he'd never forget the faces haunting him as soon as Rose's confession was released. Once it was out... there was no going back. Given a few hours they would find him too, and then all this would be over. _'Find him and bring him in captain.' _Bring him in to what? Destroy him? This man silently shaking in his lap whispering to the voices talking to him meant too much for that. He meant too much to let him go. They'd gone through too much. "I spoke with Walker's doctors too. He'll be just fine in a few." No, he wouldn't, he needed a knee replacement and that was minimal, if there was more no one would be surprised.

"I never meant to.. I should apologize to him the next time I see him, captain. I-.. I just want it the back the way it was, you know?" Piers had laid his head upon the barrel chest of his captain, the only person left in the entire world that trusted him. "I'm.. not a bad guy, right, captain? I'm not like the guys we chase." Moisture began to tingle from his tear ducts as Piers nestled his youthful face against Chris' shoulder, nestling his face into it as if he could lose himself there, hide from everything. Despite the emotion, there was a certain spaced tone and a look in his face that in itself spoke that he wasn't truly the man he was before he was savaged that fateful day.

"Never, Piers.. you know what you are? You're the one kids talk about when they think of the best thing to say when they want to grow up, the heroes." Chris furrowed his brows as he stared forward at the water, and in his mind he sourly cursed the pheromones that sought to make Piers a manipulator, a traitor to who he really was. He also cursed those out there at this very moment that hunted the man he held in his arms. He was around long enough, too long, to know what they would do to one of the best snipers he had, or would ever know in his life. "The war still rages out there, partner.. and you and I are going to win, you get me." They were going to turn him into their experiment, their own personal lab rat, and it would go right over Jill's head. They would keep Piers under sedation until he no longer had a sense of time or place, and they would dissect him to learn more about the C-Virus. Piers would go from one of the most promising men the B.S.A.A. had ever known, to a name in a file of a dead specimen. He couldn't let those things happen, and there was no going back for Piers. Saving his soul was the only thing left, and in the end, it was going to ruin Chris. "You.. You tell me, Piers, you tell me again what people like us can do to make a difference. You tell me how the man who never misses a shot, hell, the best driver in the program can make a difference in a world like this, full of people who wake up every morning because of you." Bulbous muscles within his upper appendages gave Piers a protective, possessive hug before he reached up to give a gentle muss the kid's hair, leaning forward to place a firm, prolonged kiss upon his forehead, reaching down to snatch a wrinkled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Lifting it to his mouth, he plucked out a fresh cigarette and tucked the pack back, fingertips moving around his zippo lighter, a metallic cling heard as, at the very same moment as that sound, a faint click was heard as he switched the safety off the 9-0-9 poised at his hip. He didn't want this for Piers, didn't want a life of misery taking over that sweet persona while every shred of his humanity was slowly stripped away. Inhaling deeply from the cancer stick, his lips parted to exhale a thick smog. Relenting his hold on his partner ever so reluctantly to feel the smaller form slip from his arms who stayed stoic on the front of the dock, staring out over the water. Turning to take a few steps behind Piers, he watched the younger man while he squinted his eyes quietly from the smoke, watching him.

Piers began to feel that uncontrollable sense of heat the longer he had held his captain, but as he sniffed once, a tear trickled down his eye even as his expression looked more curious than sad. He was more disturbed by the cold that came over his muscled appendages at the loss of Chris' furnace like heat. Clenching his teeth as Chris pulled away, it wasn't until the virus relented due to loss of physical contact that a bit of clarity came through his eyes, and he smiled at the captain's words even as he caught a whiff of the smoke from his cigarette. There were times, when a mission was complete, that he would ride on such a rush that he felt the need to explain how they were fighting a just cause, following men who in days of old gave their lives so that others could live. "We're going to be gray... and we'll look back on times like this, and we'll laugh. Walker will look over and give me one hell of a look for almost taking out his knee, and we'll all have a few beers and remember how I never let one freak touch you, Chris... I'll take out every last one of them before they can get you, like they tried to get me. You believed in me.. you were the only one that believed I could get better after what happened." He turned so his back was to his captain, lifting a hand to rub his own shoulder quietly before he continued. "It hurt, Chris... what they did to me, they... just laughed, you know? I tried fighting them off, captain, I swear to God I did. I cried.. they went inside me and I actually cried, but I kept telling myself... he'll come for me, they think they got me.. but he'll come, right on time like he always does... like you always do." He trailed off as his hands began to tremble at his sides as he opened up about the experience to his lover, looking up at the sky as he was determined to fight his own emotions before they got the better of him.

Chris listened to every word intently, his lips working quietly at the cigarette as he blew smoke from his nostrils, remaining silent. He hung his head as Piers began going into what happened to him, and his heart broke, he wanted to be there. If there was any possibility in the word that he could have saved his partner from that kind of humiliation and degradation, he would have done it. Flickering his tongue out to moisten his lips as the cigarette was plucked from his mouth with his index finger and thumb, he looked up at his lover, the young man who had walked into his life and became more than just a partner, but someone he saw as his lover, his successor. To the day, there was no other man he had ever met that could hold a candle to the skills of Piers Nivans. It wasn't fair, but nothing ever was. "We're going to win, I'll fight harder than I ever have before, and we'll clean up this world for the next generations to come. I'll make a name for myself, I'll etch it in history so no one ever forgets that the next guy to come up with a virus to hurt anyone, I'll put a bullet in his head." There was conviction in that voice, a sound Chris had longed to hear, the sound of his partner long lost. "The people! They'll know, they will finally know what kind of hero you are, the great Chris Redfield!-..."

"I'm sorry Piers." A single shot from his firearm rang out, and Piers Nivans was no more. Even the men of greatest intentions start believing their own lies. Flicking the cigarette to the side, he held his gun out and for the first time in his life it shook. Gripping the gun as silence filled the air where the young man had been speaking Chris felt the knot in his stomach lurch into his throat. Steps felt as if they were weighed with iron as he moved towards the crumpled body of that once promising young man, very slowly lowering and sitting by his side, placing the handgun nearby while he reached to place a splayed hand upon Piers' back, still warm while the patter of blood drops leaked through the boards of the dock and hit the surface below. "They'll never have you Piers. They would never understand. They'll never know... that I loved you."

* * *

**Fin.**

**That story was too hard to finish...**


End file.
